LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

uio 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



SHAKESPEARE'S 



COMEDY OF 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Edited, with Notes, 



WILLIAM J. ROLFE, AM., 

FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



IFITH ENGRA VINGS. 




\ijVo.//o9 0jCf 
\c,. leib. _,^JJ 



^^J°^"^.c^c^ 



NEW YORK: 

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1880. 






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Copyright, 1879, by Hakper & Brothers. 



PREFACE. 



The text of this play, like that of its predecessors in the series, has 
been prepared by carefully collating the early and the modern editions. 
In doubtful cases I have preferred to adhere to the folio ; but if the 
reader is less conservative in his tastes, the varia lectiones in the Notes 
will enable him to modify the text as he pleases. 

In the Notes, besides giving this " variorum" information, I have aimed 
not only to make the poet's meaning clear, but to illustrate the language 
and the life of his time. I have also added such aesthetic comments as, 
from their brevity or their close connection with single passages, were 
more appropriately put there than in the Introduction. 

I do not assume that all the Notes will be equally interesting or help- 
ful to every reader; but I hope that no one will turn to them for help 
without finding it. Neither do I expect that every teacher will make 
precisely the same use of them ; but I hope that they will enable his pu- 
pils to do whatever he may require in the study of the play, whether his 
taste inclines to linguistic or to aesthetic criticism, or is broad enough — 
as I trust it may be — to include both. 

As I am unable to give pictorial illustrations of Shakespeare's Bohe- 
mia (except the one on page 9, to which I venture to say no other " local 
habitation " can be assigned), I have asked the publishers to insert a few 
that belong to the real Bohemia of that day. The royal palace and the 
cathedral at Prague were old buildings even then ; but the portal to the 
former (see p. 41) was designed by Scamozzi, and the royal mausoleum 
in the latter (p. vi) was the work of Colin of Malines, both of whom were 
contemporaries of the poet. 

Cambridge, Sept. 26, 1 879. 




ROYAL MAUSOLEUM IN THE CATHEDRAL AT PRAGUE. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction to The Winter's Tale 9 

I. The History of the Play 9 

II. The Sources of the Plot 12 

III. Critical Comments on the Play 13 

THE WINTER'S TALE 39 

Act 1 41 

" n 59 

" III 76 

" IV ' 90 

" V 124 

Notes 145 




ROYAL OKATORY IN THE CATHEDRAL AT PRAGUE (14TH CENTURY 




A SEAPORT IN BOHEMIA. 

What country, friends, is this? {T. N. i. 2. 1). 



INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE WINTER'S TALE. 



I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. 

77ie Wmte?''s Tale, so far as we have any knowledge, was 
first printed in the folio of 1623, where it is the last of the 
"Comedies," occupying pages 277 to 303 inclusive. 

Malone found a memorandum in the Office Book of Sir 
Henry Herbert, the Master of the Revels, which he gives 
(see Var. of 182 1, vol. iii. p. 229) as follows : 

"For the king's players. An olde playe called Winter's 
Tale, formerly allowed of by Sir George Bucke, and likewyse 
by mee on Mr. Hemmings his worde that there was nothing 
profane added or reformed, thogh the allowed booke was 
missinge , and therefore I returned it without a fee, this 
19 of August, 1623." 

Malone also discovered that Sir George Buck did not ob- 



lo THE WINTER'S TALE. 

tain full possession of his office as Master of the Revels un- 
til August, 1610;* and he therefore conjectured that The 
Winter's Tale "was originally licensed in the latter part of 
that year or the beginning of the next." This date is con- 
firmed by the MS. Diary of Dr. Simon Forman, since dis- 
covered (see our ed. of Richard II. p. 13, and cf. M. N. D. 
p. 10), which contains the following reference to the acting 
of " the Winters Talle at the glob, 161 1, the 15 of maye :" t 

"Obserue ther howe Lyontes the kinge of Cicillia was 
overcom with lelosy of his wife, with the kinge of Bohemia, 
his frind, that came to see him, and howe he contriued his 
death, and wold haue had his cup-berer to haue poisoned, 
\_sic\ who gaue the king of bohemia warning ther-of, & fled 
with him to bohemia / Remember also howe he sent to the 
Orakell of appollo, & the Aunswer of apollo that she was 
giltles, and that the king was lelouse, &c, and howe Except 
the child was found Again that was loste, the kinge should 
die with-out yssue, for the child was caried into bohemia, & 
ther laid in a forrest, & brought vp by a sheppard. And the 
kinge of bohemia his sonn maried that wentch, & howe they 
fled in Cicillia to Leontes, and the sheppard hauing showed 
the letter of the nobleman by whom Leontes sent a \sic\ 
was that child, and the lewelles found about her. she was 
knowen to be leontes daughter, and was then 16 yers old. 

Remember also the Rog. that cam in all tottered like 
coll pixel / and howe he feyned him sicke & to haue bin 
Robbed of all that he had, and how he cosoned the por 
man of all his money, and after cam to the shop sher$ with 
a pedlers packe, & ther cosoned them Again of all ther 
money. And howe he changed apparrell with the kinge of 

* The Stationers' Registers show, however, that he had practically the 
control of the office from the year 1607. 

t We give the passage as printed in the Transactions of the N'ezu Shak- 
spere Society, 1875-76, p. 416. 

X That is, sheep-shearing. 



INTRODUCTION. 1 1 

bomia his sonn, and then hovve he turned Courtiar, &c / 
beware of trustinge feined beggars or fawninge fellouse." 

The following entry in the Accounts of the Revels, quoted 
by most of the editors, has been proved to be a forgery, like 
the similar entries concerning The TeiJipest (see our ed. p. 8), 
The Merchant of Veiiice (p. 19), and other of Shakespeare's 
plays : 

The Kings The 5th of Nouember [1611]; A play 

players. called y' winters nightes Tayle. 

The internal tests, metrical, sesthetic, and other, all tend 
to show that the play was one of the poet's last productions. 
Dowden {Shakspere Primer, p. 151), says of it: "The versi- 
fication is that of Shakspere's latest group of plays ; no five- 
measure lines are rhymed ; run-on lines and double-endings 
are numerous. The tone and feeling of The Winter's Talc 
place it in the same period with The Tempest and Cymheline ; 
its breezy air is surely that which blew over Warwickshire 
fields upon Shakspere now returned to Stratford ; its country 
lads and lasses, and their junketings, are those with which 
the poet had in a happy spirit renewed his acquaintance. 
This is perhaps the last complete play that Shakspere wrote." 

It may be noted here that Ben Jonson has a little fling 
at The Winter's Tale in the Induction of his Bartholomew 
Fair, published in 1614: "If there be never a Servant- 
Monster i' the fayre, who can helpe it, he sayes ; nor a nest 
of Antiques? He is loth to make nature afraid in his playes, 
like those that beget Tales, Tempests, and such like Drol- 
leries." The " antiques," or antics, are evidently the dancing 
Satyrs of iv. 4, as the "servant-monster" is the Caliban of 
The Tempest (see our ed. of that play, p. 8). 

The Winter's Tale is one of the most carefully printed 
plays in the folio, even the punctuation being exceptionally 
accurate. The style presents unusual difficulties, being more 
elliptical, involved,, and perplexing than that of any other 



12 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

work of Shakespeare's. Under the circumstances, as White 
remarks, " it is rather surprising that the text has come down 
to us in so pure a state ; and the absolute incomprehensibil- 
ity of one or two passages may safely be attributed to the 
attempt, on the part of the printers, to correct that which 
they thought corrupt in their copy, but which was only ob- 
scure." 

II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. 

The story of The Wi7iter's Tale is taken from Robert 
Greene's History of Dorastus and Fawnia, which appeared 
first in 1588, under the title oi Fandosto, and passed through 
several editions. Shakespeare follows the novel in most 
particulars, but varies from it in a few of some importance. 
For instance, in the story as told by Greene, Bellaria (Her- 
mione) dies upon hearing of the loss of her son ; and Pan- 
dosto (Leontes) falls in love with his own daughter, and is 
finally seized with a kind of melancholy or madness, in 
which he kills himself The poet appears to have changed 
the denouement because he was writing a comedy, not a 
tragedy. 

One of the minor incidents may possibly have been altered 
for another reason. In Fandosto the daughter of the king is 
cast adrift at sea in a rudderless boat. Collier suggests that 
this was changed in The Winter's Tale because in The Tem- 
pest the same incident had already been used in the case of 
Prospero and Miranda. The two plays are undoubtedly of 
nearly the same date, but, as Gervinus observes, this altera- 
tion in the story does not prove that The Teinpest was writ- 
ten first, but only indicates that the plan of both pieces was 
sketched at the same time. 

We need hardly add that the poet's indebtedness to the 
novelist, as in so many other cases of the kind, is really in- 
significant. "Whatever the merits of Greene's work— and 
it is a good tale of its sort and its time, though clumsily and 
pedantically told — they are altogether different in kind (we 



INTR OD UCTION. 1 3 

will not consider the question of degree) from the merits 
of Shakespeare. ' In characterization of personages the tale 
is notably coarse and commonplace, in thought arid and 
barren, and in language alternately meagre and inflated; 
whereas there are few more remarkable creations in all lit- 
erature than Hermione, Perdita, Autolycus, Paulina, not to 
notice minor characters; and its teeming wealth of wisdom, 
and the daring and dainty beauty of its poetry, give the play 
a high place in the second rank of Shakespeare's works. 
Briefly, it is the old story over again : the dry stick that 
seems to bloom and blossom is but hidden by the leafy 
luxuriance and floral splendour of the plant that has been 
trained upon it" (White). 

III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
{^From Ulrici' s *'■ Shakspeare' s D7-amatic Art.^'' *'\ 
The general foundation and plan of the whole— the jeal- 
ousy of Leontes, the seclusion of the Queen and the repent- 
ance of her husband, the young Prince's love for the exceed- 
ingly beautiful shepherdess, etc. — although unusual, are nev- 
ertheless in accordance with reality; the characters, also, 
are consistently developed, without sudden changes and 
psychological improbabilities. Individual features, however, 
are all the more fantastic. We have here the full sway of 
accident and caprice in the concatenation of events, circum- 
stances, and relations ; every thing is removed from common 
experience. Not only is Delphos spoken of as an island 
and Bohemia as a maritime country (local reality, therefore, 
disregarded), but the reality of time also is completely set 
aside, inasmuch as the Delphic oracle is made to exist con- 
temporaneously with Russian emperors and the great paint- 
er Julio Romano ; in fact, the heroic age and the times 
of chivalry, the ancient customs of mythical religion, and 

^ S/iakspeare's Dramatic Art, by Dr. Hermann Ulrici ; translated from 
the third German ed. by L. D. Schmitz (London, 1876), vol. ii. p. 30 fol. 



14 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Christianity with its institutions are brought together sans 
ch'hnonie. It is a matter of accident that the death of the 
Crown Prince is announced simultaneously with the utter- 
ance of the oracle, and that the condition of the Queen ap- 
pears like actual death. It is purely an accident that the 
babe is saved at the very moment that the nobleman who 
exposed it is torn to pieces by a bear, and that his ship, with 
all on board, is lost, so that no tidings could be carried back 
to Sicilia. It is mere accident that the young Prince of 
Bohemia strays into woods, and meets the shepherds with 
whom the Princess is living. In the end similar freaks of 
chance repair the results of the first accidents, bring all 
the dramatic personages together in Sicilia, put every thing 
into its proper order, and bring about a happy conclusion. 
As, therefore, the unreal, the fantastic, is here expressed in 
individual features rather than in the general fundamental 
relations of the play, so it is also more the interaction of ex- 
ternal matters of chance that governs the whole and solves 
the contradiction of opinions and intentions, of deeds and 
events ; thus, in spite of all the apparent impossibilities, that 
which is rational and right is ultimately brought about. 

It is just this sovereignty of eternal contingency, however, 
that gives the play the character of a tale and its title. For 
pure contingency — in its outward, objective form, which, as 
such, interrupts the order of nature, the given disposition of 
time and space, the causal connection of things, and comes 
in between like a foreign element — stands in the closest 
affinity to the idea of the marvellous. A tale or fairy tale, 
however, does not, as might be supposed, assume the won- 
derful merely as a form or outward dress j the wonderful is 
rather an essential element in it, because it is itself essen- 
tially based upon the mystic v\ev^ of things, which looks upon 
life only as the outward form of a deep, unrevealable mys- 
tery, to which every thing, therefore, appears an inexplicable 
wonder. Accordingly, that which in common life-^in our 



INTRODUCTION. 



15 



ignorance of its cause and necessity — we call chance, is 
made the ruling principle of the tale or fairy tale, and, in 
order that the principle, as such, may also be clearly and 
distinctly brought forward, it presents itself in strange, ar- 
bitrary, and fantastic shapes, in outward forms opposed to 
common reality. What is fairy-tale-like in character is, on 
this very account, a legitimate ingredient in the comic view 
of life, but ofily in the comic view ; a tragic fairy tale would 
be a poetical monstrosity.* In The Winter's Tale, however, 
Shakspeare has not opened up the whole region of the mar- 
vellous ; he has described the wonderful, not so much in its 
outer form as in its ideal nature and character. In fact, it 
exists here only in the incomprehensibility of outward con- 
tingency and the mysterious connection of the latter with 
the actions and fortunes of the dramatic characters. By thus 
modifying the idea Shakspeare has brought the whole nearer 
to the common reality of life, and enhances the effect by the 
greater illusion, for, in fact, a tale gains in poetic beauty 
when the representation of the marvellous is introduced 
noiselessly, as if it were the most ordinary of occurrences. 

Shakspeare has here again, I think, intimated by the title 
of his play in what sense he took up and worked upon 
Greene's romance. He could hardly have intended merely 
to dramatize a traditional tale ; the play is not called "^ 
Winter's Tale," but ''The Winter's Tale." The poet's in- 
tention here was again, as it were, to hold the mirror up to 
nature, to show the body of the time its pressure. In other 
words, he wished to show that from a certain point of view 
life itself appears like a strange, cheerful, and yet eerie win- 
ter's tale — a tale told to a circle of poetically disposed lis- 
teners gathered round the flickering fireside of a peaceful, 
happy home, on a raw winter's night, by a master in the art 
of story-telling, while the atmosphere of the warm, secure,- 

* Accordingly the alterations which Shakspeare made in Greene's 
novel were artistically necessary. 



1 6 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

and joyous assembly mixes with the terrors of the advent- 
ures narrated, and with the cold, dismal night outside. It 
becomes this solely by the mysterious veil that envelops 
the power of chance which is spread over the whole. It is 
/-cheerful because through this veil we everywhere get a glim- 
mer of the light of a future which is leading all towards what 
is good, and because we everywhere feel that the dismal 
darkness of the present will be cleared off by a necessity 
which, even though equally dark, is internal. And yet a 
gentle shudder runs through our frame . .'. when we behold 
how, owing to the mysterious connection in the power of 
evil, mischief follows close upon the footsteps of sin, threat- 
ening the welfare of the whole kingdom ; and again when 
we behold how accident, as the avenging angel, seizes and 
destroys even the unwilling tools of crime, and how this 
complication of crimes even threatens to disturb the peace- 
ful, innocent happiness of the old shepherd and his family. 

It is self-evident that when life appears like a strange win- 
ter's tale, the conception cannot and should not be regarded 
as the plain and absolute truth. Shakspeare's intention 
was rather to set forward but one side, one element of the 
whole which is but little taken into consideration. And, in 
fact, this view of life contains the profound truth that life 
does not present itself to man only in its undimmed trans- 
parency and perfect clearness, like a bright, cheerful sum- 
mer's day, but that it is enveloped in a mysterious, irremov- 
able veil, and governed by a power that cannot always be 
recognized. Shakspeare does not forget to point to the fact 
that the only means a man has of protecting himself from 
this dark power is by strict adherence to the moral law and 
to the ethical order of the universe, and that, on the other 
hand, he inevitably falls a prey to it by wandering from the 
right path, by passion and want of self-control, and thus 
becomes a play-ball to its good or bad humours. 



INTRODUCTION. 17 



YFroni Gervimis's ^'■Shakespeare Cotnvientariesy *'\ 
Shakespeare has treated Greene's narrative in the way he 
has usually dealt with his bad originals — he has done away 
with some indelicacy in the matter, and some unnatural 
things in the form ; he has given a better foundation to the 
characters and course of events ; but to impart an intrinsic 
value to the subject as a wdiole, to bring a double action into 
unity, and to give to the play the character of a regular 
drama by mere arrangements of matter and alteration of 
motive was not possible. The wildness of the fiction, the 
improbability and contingency of the events, the gap in the 
time which divides the two actions between two generations, 
could not be repaired by any art. Shakespeare, therefore, 
began upon his theme in quite an opposite direction. He 
increased still more the marvellous and miraculous in the 
given subject, he disregarded more and more the require- 
ments of the real and probable, and treated time, place, and 
circumstances with the utmost arbitrariness. He added the 
character of Antigonus and his death by the bear, Paulina 
and her second marriage in old age, the pretended death and 
the long forbearance and preservation of Hermione, Autoly- 
cus and his cunning tricks, and he increased thereby the 
improbable circumstances and strange incidents. He over- 
leaped all limits, mixing up together Russian emperors and 
the Delphic oracle and Julio Romano, chivalry and heathen- 
dom, ancient forms of religion and Whitsuntide pastorals. 
Greene had already taught him to pay no attention to prob- 
ability with regard to place, since in his narrative reference 
had already been made to the sea-shore in Bohemia and to 
the isla7id of Delphos. Added to this, there are mistakes in 
the style of those of Cervantes, where the theft of Sancho 
Panza's ass is forgotten. Prince Florizel, who (iv. 4) appears 
* Shakespeare Commentaries, by Dr. G. G. Gervinus, translated F. E. 
Bunnett : revised ed. (London, 1875), p. 802 fol. 

B 



1 8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

in shepherd's clothes^ exchanges immediately afterwards his 
court garments with Autolycus in the same scene; the old 
shepherd (iii. 3) knows at once, but whence does not appear, 
that the slaughtered Antigonus was an old man. Jonson 
and Dryden have made all this of far too much consequence, 
even while laughing at it. Pope has even doubted the gen- 
uineness of the play. The scenic effect, the excellent char- 
acterization of certain personages, and the beauty of the lan- 
guage of the play were acknowledged, but the poet was con- 
tinually upbraided for those very marvels which, in our opin- 
ion, he only intended as such. Three times in the play, and 
once for all in the title, he dwelt as emphatically as possible 
on the fictitious character of the play, which is wholly found- 
ed on the incredible and improbable. If we will dispute 
with him, it must be on the one point only — whether fictions 
be admissible on the stage or not. We must not criticise 
mistakes here and there, which, if that admissibility be al- 
lowed, may well have. been purposed by the poet. . . . 

While Shakespeare has at other times permitted in his 
dramas the existence of a twofold action, connected by a 
common idea, it was not necessary in the instance before us 
to sever the wasplike body of Greene's story, nor could he 
have entirely concentrated the two actions; he could but 
connect them indistinctly by a leading idea in both, although 
the manner in which he has outwardly connected them is a 
delicate and spirited piece of art, uniting, as he has done, 
tragedy and comedy, making the one elevate the other, and 
thus enriching the stage with a tragi-comic pastoral, a com- 
bination wholly unknown even to the good Polonius. . . . 

Shakespeare has written little that can compare with the 
fourth act of The Winter's Tale for variety, liveliness, and 
beauty. But the fifth act rises still higher in the magic scene 
of the reanimation of Hermione and the description of the 
recognition that precedes it. The poet has wisely placed 
this event behind the scenes, otherwise the play would have 



INTRODUCriOAr, ^^ 

been too full of powerful scenes. " The dignit}^ of this act," 
it is said, " was worth the audience of kings and princes; but 
the actors, too, who should play these scenes worthily, ought 
to be kings." The mere relation of this meeting is in itself 
a rare masterpiece of prose description. 

\Frovi Mrs. Javiesoii's " Characteristics of IVomeji.^^*] 

The story of Florizel and Perdita is but an episode in T/ie 
Winter's 7ale, and the character of Perdita is properly kept 
subordinate to that of her mother, Hermione; yet the picture 
is perfectly finished in every part; Juliet herself is not more 
firmly and distinctly drawn. . . . 

The qualities which impart to Perdita her distinct individ- 
uality are the beautiful combination of the pastoral with the 
elegant — of simplicity with elevation — of spirit with sweet- 
ness. The exquisite delicacy of the picture is apparent. To 
understand and appreciate its effective truth and nature, we 
should place Perdita beside some of the nymphs of Arcadia, 
or the Chlorises and Sylvias of the Italian pastorals, who, how- 
ever graceful in themselves, when opposed to Perdita seem 
to melt away into mere poetical abstractions; as, in Spenser, 
the fair but fictitious Florimel, which the subtle enchantress 
had moulded out of snow, "vermeil-tinctured," and informed 
with an airy spirit that knew " all wiles of woman's wits," 
fades and dissolves away when placed next to the real Flori- 
mel, in her warm, breathing, human loveliness. 

Perdita does not appear till the fourth act, and the whole 
of the character is developed in the course of a single scene 
(the fourth) with a completeness of efiect which leaves noth- 
ing to be required — nothing to be supplied. She is first in- 
troduced in the dialogue between herself and Florizel, where 
she compares her own lowly state to his princely rank, and 
expresses her fears of the issue of their unequal attachment. 
With all her timidity and her sense of the distance which 
* American ed. (Boston, 1857), pp. 173 fol. and 222 fo!. 



20 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

separates her from her lover, she breathes not a single word 
which could lead us to impugn either her delicacy or her 
dignity. 

The impression of her perfect beauty and airy elegance 
of demeanour is conveyed in two exquisite passages : 

" What you do 
Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 
I 'd have you do it ever : when you sing, 
I 'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, 
Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs. 
To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you 
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 
Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own 
No other function." 

" I take thy hand, this hand. 
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it. 
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow 
That 's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'erj' 

The artless manner in which her innate nobility of soul 
shines forth through her pastoral disguise is thus brought 
before us at once : 

" This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 
Ran on the green-sward ; nothing she does or seems 
But smacks of something greater than herself, 
Too noble for this place." 

Her natural loftiness of spirit breaks out where she is 
menaced and reviled by the King, as one whom his son has 
degraded himself by merely looking on. She bears the royal 
frown without quailing ; but the moment he is gone the im-' 
mediate recollection of herself, and of her humble state, of 
her hapless love, is full of beauty, tenderness, and nature : 

" Even here undone ! 
I was much afeard ; for once or twice, 
I was about to speak and tell him plainly, 
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but 
Looks on alike. Will 't please you, sir, be gone ? 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

I told you what would come of this. Beseech you, 
Of your own state take care ; this dream of mine, — 
Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther, 
But milk my ewes and weep." 

" How often have I told you 't would be thus ! 
How often said, my dignity would last 
But till 't were known !" 

Perdita has another characteristic, which lends to the poet- 
ical delicacy of the delineation a certain strength and moral 
elevation which is peculiarly striking. It is that sense of 
truth and rectitude, that upright simplicity of mind, which 
disdains all crooked and indirect means, which would not 
stoop for an instant to dissemblance, and is mingled with a 
noble confidence in her love and in her lover. In this spirit 
is her answer to Camillo, who says, courtier-like : 

"Besides you know 
Prosperity 's the very bond of love, 
^¥hose fresh complexion and whose heart together 
Affliction alters." 

To which she replies : 

" One of these is true ; 
I think affliction may subdue the cheek. 
But not take in the mind." 

This love of truth, this cofiscie?itiousness, which forms so dis- 
tinct a feature in the character of Perdita, and mingles with 
its picturesque delicacy a certain firmness and dignity, is 
maintained consistently to the last. When the two lovers 
fly together from Bohemia, and take refuge in the court of 
Leontes, the real father of Perdita, Florizel presents himself 
before the King with a feigned tale, in which he has been 
artfully instructed by the old counsellor Camillo. During 
this scene, Perdita does not utter a word. In the strait in 
which they are placed, she cannot deny the story which 
Florizel relates — she will not confirm it. Her silence, in 
spite of all the compliments and greetings of Leontes, has a 
peculiar and characteristic grace; and, at the conclusion of 



2 2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

the scene, when they are betrayed, the truth bursts from her 
as if instinctively, and she exclaims, with emotion : 

" The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have 
Our contract celebrated," 

After this scene, Perdita says very little. The description 
of her grief, while listening to the relation of her mother's 
death, — 

" One of the prettiest touches of all . . . was when, at the relation of 
the queen's death, with the manner how she came to 't . . . how at- 
tentiveness wounded her daughter ; till, from one sign of dolour to 
another, she did, with an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears," — 

her deportment, too, as she stands gazing on the statue of 
Hermione, fixed in wonder, admiration, and sorrow, as if she 

too were marble, — 

" O royal piece ! 
There 's magic in thy majesty, which has 
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, 
Standing like stone with thee," — 

are touches of character conveyed indirectly, and which serve 
to give a more finished effect to the beautiful picture. . . . 

The character of Hermione exhibits what is never found 
in the other sex, but rarely in our own, yet sometimes — dig- 
nity without pride, love without passion, and tenderness with- 
out weakness. To conceive a character in which there enters 
so much of the negative, required perhaps no rare and aston- 
ishing effort of genius, such as created a Juliet, a Miranda, 
or a Lady Macbeth ; but to delineate such a character in the 
poetical form, to develop it through the medium of action 
and dialogue, without the aid of description ; to preserve its 
tranquil, mild, and serious beauty, its unimpassioned dignity, 
and at the same time keep the strongest hold upon our sym- 
pathy and our imagination ; and out of this exterior calm 
produce the most profound pathos, the most vivid impression 
of life and internal power — it is this which renders the char- 
acter of Hermione one of Shakspeare's masterpieces. 



introduction: 23"^ 

Hermione is a queen, a matron, and a mother; she is good 
and beautiful, and royally descended. A majestic sweetness, 
a grand and gracious simplicity, an easy, unforced, yet digni- 
fied self-possession, are in all her deportment, and in every 
word she utters. She is one of those characters of whom it 
has been said proverbially that "still waters run deep," Her 
passions are not vehement, but in her settled mind the sources 
of pain or pleasure, love or resentment, are like the springs 
that feed the mountain lakes, impenetrable, unf^athomable, 
and inexhaustible. 

Shakspeare has conveyed (as is his custom) a part of the 
character of Hermione in scattered touches and through the 
impressions which she produces on all around her. Her 
surpassing beauty is alluded to in few but strong terms : 

"This jealousy 
Is for a precious creature ; as she is rare 
Must it be great. 

Praise her but for this her out-door form 
(Which, on my faith, deserves high speech)." 

" If, one by one, you wedded all the world, 
Or from the all that are took something good 
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd 
Would be unparallel'd." 

" I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, 
Have taken treasure from her lips . . . 

and left them 
More rich for what they yielded." 

The expressions "most sacred lady," "dread mistress," 
"sovereign," with which she is addressed or alluded to, the 
boundless devotion and respect of those around her, and 
their confidence in her goodness and innocence, are so many 
additional strokes in the portrait. . . . 

She receives the first intimation of her husband's jealous 
suspicions with incredulous astonishment. It is not that, 
like Desdemona, she does not or cannot understand; but she 



24 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



will not. When he accuses her more plainly, she replies 
with a calm dignity : 

" Should a villain say so, 
The most replenish'd villain in the world, 
He were as much more villain ; you, my lord, 
Do but mistake." 

This characteristic composure of temper never forsakes 
her; and yet it is so delineated that the impression is that 
of grandeur, and never borders upon pride or coldness : it 
is the fortitude of a gentle but a strong mind, conscious of 
its own innocence. Nothing can be more affecting than 
her calm reply to Leontes, who, in his jealous rage, heaps 
insult upon insult, and accuses her before her own attend- 
ants as no better " than one of those to whom the vulgar 
give bold titles." 

" How will this grieve you. 
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that 
You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord, 
You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
You did mistake." 

Her mild dignity and saintlike patience, combined as they 
are with the strongest sense of the cruel injustice of her 
husband, thrill us with admiration as well as pity ; and we 
cannot but see and feel that for Hermione to give way to 
tears and feminine complaints under such a blow would be 
quite incompatible with the character. Thus she says of 
herself, as she is led to prison : 

''There 's some ill planet reigns; 
I must be patient till the heavens look 
With an aspect more favourable. — Good my lords, 
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex 
Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew 
Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have 
That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns 
Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords, 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

With thought so qualified as your charities 
Shall best instruct you, measure me ; — and so 
The king's will be perform'd !" 

When she is brought to trial for supposed crimes, called 
on to defend herself, "standing to prate and talk for life and 
honour, before who please to come and hear," the sense of her 
ignominious situation — all its shame and all its horror press 
upon her, and would apparently crush even her magnanimous 
spirit but for the consciousness of her own worth and in- 
nocence, and the necessity that exists for asserting and de- 
fending both. . . . 

The character of Hermione is considered open to criticism 
on one point. I have heard it remarked that when she se- 
cludes herself from the world for sixteen years, during which 
time she is mourned as dead by her repentant husband, 
and is not won to relent from her resolve by his sorrow, his 
remorse, his constancy to her memory, — such conduct is 
unfeeling as it is inconceivable in a tender and virtuous 
woman. . . . The incident of Hermione's supposed death 
and concealment for sixteen years is not indeed very prob- 
able in itself, nor very likely to occur in every-day life. But, 
besides all the probability necessary for the purposes of 
poetry, it has all the likelihood it can derive from the pe- 
culiar character of Hermione, who is precisely the woman 
who could and would have acted in this manner. In such a 
mind as hers, the sense of a cruel injury, inflicted by one she 
had loved and trusted, without awakening any violent anger or 
any desire of vengeance, would sink deep — almost incurably 
and lastingly deep. So far she is most unlike either Imogen 
or Desdemona, who are portrayed as much more flexible 
in temper; but then the circumstances under which she is 
wronged are very different, and far more unpardonable. The 
self-created, frantic jealousy of Leontes is very distinct from 
that of Othello, writhing under the arts of lago; or that of 
Posthumus, whose understanding has been cheated by the 



26 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

most damning evidence of his wife's infidelity. The jealousy 
which in Othello and Posthumus is an error of judgment, in 
, Leontes is a vice of the blood ; he suspects without cause, 
condemns without proof; he is without excuse — unless the 
mixture of pride, passion, and imagination, and the predispo- 
sition to jealousy, with which Shakspeare has portrayed him, 
be considered as an excuse. Hermione has been openly in- 
sulted : he to whom she gave herself, her heart, her soul, has 
stooped to the weakness and baseness of suspicion ; has 
doubted her truth, has wronged her love, has sunk in her es- 
teem, and forfeited her confidence. She has been branded 
with vile names ; her son, her eldest hope, is dead — dead 
through the false accusation which has stuck infamy on his 
mother's name; and her innocent babe, stained with illegitima- 
cy, disowned and rejected, has been exposed to a cruel death. 
Can we believe that the mere tardy acknowledgment of her 
innocence could make amends for wrongs and agonies such 
as these ? or heal a heart which must have bled inwardly, 
consumed by that untold grief "which burns worse than tears 
drown?" Keeping in view the peculiar character of Her- 
mione, such as she is delineated, is she one either to forgive 
hastily or forget quickly ? and though she might, in her soli- 
tude, mourn over her repentant husband, would his repent- 
ance suffice to restore him at once to his place in her heart; 
to efface from her strong and reflecting mind the recollection 
of his miserable weakness? or can we fancy this high-souled 
woman— left childless through the injury which has been in- 
flicted on her, widov/ed in heart by the unworthiness of him 
she loved, a spectacle of grief to all, to her husband a con- 
tinual reproach and humiliation— walking through the parade 
of royalty in the court which had witnessed her anguish, her 
shame, her degradation, and her despair ? Methinks that the 
want of feeling, nature, delicacy, and consistency would lie in 
such an exhibition as this. In a mind like Hermione's, where 
the strength of feeling is founded in the power of thought, and 



INTR OD UC TION. 2 7 

where there is little of impulse or imagination — " the depth, 
but not the tumult, of the soul"*— there are but two influ 
ences which predominate over the will— time and religion. 
And what then remained but that, wounded in heart and 
spirit, she should retire from the world ? — not to brood over 
her wrongs, but to study forgiveness, and wait the fulfilment 
of the oracle which had promised the termination of her sor- 
rows. Thus a premature reconciliation would not only have 
been painfully inconsistent with the character ; it would also 
have deprived us of that most beautiful scene in which Her- 
mione is discovered to her husband as the statue or image of 
herself And here we have another instance of that admi- 
rable art with which the dramatic character is fitted to the 
circumstances in which it is placed : that perfect command 
over her own feelings, that complete self-possession necessary 
to this extraordinary situation, is consistent with all that we 
imagine of Hermione; in any other woman it would be so 
incredible as to shock all our ideas of probability. . . . 

The effect produced on the different persons of the drama 
by this living statue — an effect which at the same moment is 
and is not illusion — the manner in which the feelings of the 
spectators become entangled between the conviction of death 
and the impression of life, the idea of a deception and the 
feeling of a reality; and the exquisite colouring of poetry and 
touches of natural feeling with which the whole is wrought 
up, till wonder, expectation, and intense pleasure hold our 
pulse and breath suspended on the event — are quite inim- 
itable. . . . 

The moment when Hermione descends from her pedes- 
tal, to the sound of soft music, and throws herself, without 

*"The gods approve 
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul."— Wordsworth. 

" II pouvait y avoir des vagues majestueuses et non de I'orage dans son 
ccEur," was finely observed of Madame de Stael in her maturer years; it 
would have been true of Hermione at any period of her life. 



28 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

speaking, into her husband's arms, is one of inexpressible 
interest. It appears to me that her silence during the 
whole of this scene (except where she invokes a blessing 
on her daughter's head) is in the finest taste as a poetical 
beauty, besides being an admirable trait of character. The 
misfortunes of Hermione, her long religious seclusion, the 
w^onderful and almost supernatural part she has just enact- 
ed, have invested her with such a sacred and awful charm 
that any words put into her mouth must, I think, have in- 
jured the solemn and profound pathos of the situation. 

There are several among Shakspeare's characters which 
exercise a far stronger power over our feelings, our fancy, 
our understanding, than that of Hermione j but not one — 
unless perhaps Cordelia — constructed upon so high and 
pure a principle. It is the union of gentleness with power 
which constitutes the perfection of mental grace. Thus 
among the ancients, with whom the graces were also the 
charities (to show, perhaps, that while form alone may con- 
stitute beauty, sentiment is necessary to grace), one and 
the same word signified equally strength and virtue. This 
feeling, carried into the fine arts, was the secret of the an- 
tique grace — the grace of repose. The same eternal nat- 
ure — the same sense of immutable truth and beauty, which 
revealed this sublime principle of art to the ancient Greeks, 
revealed it to the genius of Shakspeare ; and the character 
of Hermione, in which we have the same largeness of con- 
ception and delicacy of execution — the same effect of suf- 
fering without passion, and grandeur without effort — is an 
instance, I think, that he felt within himself, and by intuition, 
what we study all our lives in the remains of ancient art. 
The calm, regular, classical beauty of Hermione's character 
is the more impressive from the wild and Gothic accompani- 
ments of her story, and the beautiful relief afforded by the 
pastoral and romantic grace which is thrown around her 
daughter, Perdita. 



INTR on UC TIOiV. 2 9 



[From DowdeiCs '''■Shakspere?''*'\ 

The plays belonging to Shakspere's final period of au- 
thorship, which I shall consider, are three : Cymbeline^ The 
Winter's Tale, and The Tempest. The position in which 
they were placed in the first Folio (whether it was the re- 
sult of design or accident) is remarkable. The Winter's 
Tale is the last of the comedies, which all lie between this 
play and The Tempest. The circumstance may have been 
a piece of accident ; but if so, it was a lucky accident, 
which suggests* that our first and our last impression of 
Shakspere shall be that of Shakspere in his period of large, 
serene wisdom, and that in the light of the clear and sol- 
emn vision of his closing years all his writings shall be 
read. Characteristics of versification and style, and the 
enlarged place given to scenic spectacle, indicate that these 
plays were produced much about the same time. But the 
ties of deepest kinship between them are spiritual. There 
is a certain romantic element in each.f They receive con- 
tributions from every portion of Shakspere's genius, but all 
are mellowed, refined, made exquisite ; they avoid the ex- 
tremes of broad humour and of tragic intensity ; they were 
written with less of passionate concentration than the plays 
which immediately precede them, but with more of a spirit 
of deep or exquisite recreation. . . . 

The period of the tragedies was ended. In the tragedies 
Shakspere had made his inquisition into the mystery of 
evil. He had studied those injuries of man to man which 
are irreparable. He had seen the innocent suffering with 
the guilty. Death came and removed the criminal and his 
victim from human sight, and we were left with solemn awe 

* Shakspere: a Critical Study of his Mind aiid Art, by Edward Dow- 
den (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 402 fol. 

t The same remark applies to Shakspere's part oi Pericles, which be- 
longs to this period. 



30 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

upon our hearts in presence of the insoluble problems of 
life. ... At the same time that Shakspere had shown the 
tragic mystery of human life, he had fortified the heart by 
showing that to suffer is not the supreme evil with man, 
and that loyalty and innocence, and self-sacrifice, and pure 
redeeming ardour, exist, and cannot be defeated. Now, in 
his last period of authorship, Shakspere remained grave — 
how could it be otherwise ? — but his severity was tem- 
pered and purified. He had less need of the crude doc- 
trine of Stoicism, because the tonic of such wisdom as ex- 
ists in Stoicism had been taken up, and absorbed into his 
blood. 

Shakspere still thought of the graver trials and tests 
which life applies to human character, of the wrongs which 
man inflicts on man ; but his present temper demanded 
not a tragic issue — it rather demanded an issue into joy or 
peace. The dissonance must be resolved into a harmony, 
clear and rapturous, or solemn and profound. And, ac- 
cordingly, in each of these plays, The Winter's Tale, Cym- 
beline^ The Tempest^ while grievous errors of the heart are 
shown to us, and wrongs of man to man as cruel as those 
of the great tragedies, at the end there is a resolution of 
the dissonance, a reconciliation. This is the word which 
interprets Shakspere's later plays — reconciliation, "word 
over all, beautiful as the sky." It is not, as in the earlier 
comedies — The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Much Ado about 
Nothing, As You Like It, and others — a mere denouement. 
The resolution of the discords in these latest plays is not a 
mere stage necessity, or a necessity of composition, resorted 
to by the dramatist to effect an ending of the play, and lit- 
tle interesting his imagination or his heart. Its signifi- 
cance here is ethical and spiritual ; it is a moral necessity. 

In The Winter's Tale, the jealousy of Leontes is not less, 
but more fierce and unjust than that of Othello. No lago 
whispers poisonous suspicion in Leontes' ear. His wife is 



INTRODUCTION. 31 

not untried, nor did she yield to him her heart with the 
sweet proneness of Desdemona : — 

" Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death 
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, 
And clap thyself my love ; then didst thou utter 
' I am yours for ever.' " 

Hermione is susjDected of sudden and shameless dishonour, 
she who is a matron, the mother of Leontes' children, a 
woman of serious and sweet dignity of character, inured to 
a noble self-command, and frank only through the con- 
sciousness of invulnerable loyalty."* The passion of Leon- 
tes is not, like that of Othello, a terrible chaos of soul — 
confusion and despair at the loss of what had been to him 
the fairest thing on earth ; there is a gross personal resent- 
ment in the heart of Leontes, not sorrowful, judicial indig- 

* The contrast between Othello and The Winte7'''s Tale has been no- 
ticed by Coleridge, and is admirably drawn out in detail by Gervinus 
and Kreyssig, to whose treatment of the subject the above paragraph 
is indebted. 

[Coleridge's remarks are as follows : "The idea of this delightful drama 
is a genuine jealousy of disposition, and it should be immediately fol- 
lowed by the perusal of Othello, which is the direct contrast of it in ev- 
ery particular. For jealousy is a vice of the mind, a culpable tendency 
of the temper, having certain well-known and well-defined effects and 
concomitants, all of which are visible in Leontes, and, I boldly say, not 
one of which marks its presence in Othello ; — such as, first, an excita- 
bility by the most inadequate causes, and an eagerness to snatch at 
proofs; secondly, a grossness of conception, and a disposition to de- 
grade the object of the passion by sensual fancies and images ; thirdly, a 
sense of shame of his own feelings exhibited in a solitary moodiness of 
humour, and yet from the violence of the passion forced to utter itself, 
and therefore catching occasions to ease the mind by ambiguities, equi- 
voques, by talking to those who cannot, and who are known not to be 
able to, understand what is said to them — in short, by soliloquy in the 
form of dialogue, and hence a confused, broken, and fragmentary man- 
ner ; fourthly, a dread of vulgar ridicule, as distinct from a high sense 
of honour, or a mistaken sense of duty; and lastly, and immediately, 
consequent on this, a spirit of selfish vindictiveness." 

See extract from Gerviuus in note on i. 2. 87 below. — Ed.] 



32 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

nation ; his passion is hideously grotesque, while that of 
Othello is pathetic. 

The consequences of this jealous madness of Leontes 
are less calamitous than the ruin wrought by Othello's jeal- 
ousy, because Hermione is courageous and collected, and 
possessed of a fortitude of heart which years of suffering 
are unable to subdue. . . . But although the wave of calam- 
ity is broken by the firm resistance offered by the fortitude 
of Hermione, it commits ravage enough to be remembered. 
Upon the Queen comes a lifetime of solitude and pain. 
The hopeful son of Leontes and Hermione is done to 
death, and the infant Perdita is estranged from her kindred 
and her friends. But at length the heart of Leontes is 
instructed and purified by anguish and remorse. He has 
"performed a saintlike sorrow," redeemed his faults, paid 
down more penitence than done trespass : 

" Whilst I remember 
Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
My blemishes in them, and so still think of 
The wrong I did myself; which was so much, 
That heirless it hath made my kingdom and 
Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man 
Bred his hopes out of." 

•And Leontes is received back without reproach into the 
arms of his wife; she embraces him in silence, allowing the 
good pain of his repentance to effect its utmost work. . . . 

From the first, Hermione, whose clear-sightedness is equal 
to her courage, had perceived that her husband laboured 
under a delusion which was cruel and calamitous to himself. 
From the first she transcends all blind resentment, and has 
true pity for the man who wrongs her. But if she has forti- 
tude for her own uses, she also is able to accept for her hus- 
band the inevitable pain which is necessary to restore him 
to his better mind. She will not shorten the term of his 
suffering, because that suffering is beneficent. And at the 



INTRODUCTION. ^^-^ 

last her silent embrace carries with it — and justly — a portion 
of that truth she had uttered long before : 

" How will this grieve you, 
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that 
You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord. 
You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
You did mistake." 

The calm and complete comprehension of the fact is a pos- 
session painful yet precious to Hermione, and it lifts her 
above all vulgar confusion of heart or temper, and above 
all unjust resentment. . . . 

Over the beauty of youth and the love of youth there is 
shed, in these plays of Shakspere's final period, a clear yet 
tender luminousness not elsewhere to be perceived in his 
writings. In his earlier plays, Shakspere writes concerning 
young men and maidens, their loves, their mirth, their griefs, 
as one who is among them, who has a lively, personal inter- 
est in their concerns, who can make merry with them, treat 
them familiarly, and, if need be, can mock them into good 
sense. There is nothing in these early plays wonderful, 
strangely beautiful, pathetic about youth and its joys and 
sorrows. . . . But in these latest plays the beautiful, pathetic 
light is always present. There are the sufferers, aged, expe- 
rienced, tried — Queen Katherine, Prospero, Hermione. And 
over against these there are the children absorbed in their 
happy and exquisite egoism — Perdita and Miranda, Florizel 
and Ferdinand, and the boys of old Belarius. ... In each of 
these plays we can see Shakspere, as it were, bending ten- 
derly over the joys and sorrows of youth. We recognize 
this rather through the total characterization, and through 
a feeling and a presence, than through definite incident or 
statement. But some of this feeling escapes in the disinter- 
ested joy and admiration of old Belarius when he gazes at 
the princely youths, and in Camillo's loyalty to Florizel and 
Perdita ; while it obtains more distinct expression in such a 

C 



34 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



word as that which Prospero utters, when from a distance he 
watches with pleasure Miranda's zeal to relieve Ferdinand 
from his task of log -bearing: — "Poor worm, thou art in- 
fected." 

{From FurnivaWs Introduction to the Play.*'\ 

We turn from our murky Britain again to sunlit Sicily and 
the Mediterranean, and though Mamillius tells us that — 

*' A sad tale 's best for winter," 

yet, notwithstanding all Hermione's suffering, and the death 
of her gallant boy, who used to frighten her with goblin sto- 
ries, we can't call Shakspere's Winter's Tale sad. It is so 
fragrant with Perdita and her primroses and violets, so 
happy in the reunion and reconciliation of her and her 
father and mother, so bright with the sunshine of her and 
of Florizel's young love, and the merry roguery of that 
scamp Autolycus, that none of us can think of The Winter's 
Tale as a "sad tale" or play. 

The last complete play of Shakspere's as it is, the golden 
glow of the sunset of his genius is over it, the sweet country 
air all through it ; and of few, if any of his plays, is there a 
pleasanter picture in the memory than of Winter's Tale. As 
long as men can think, shall Perdita brighten and sweeten, 
Hermione ennoble, men's minds and lives. How happily, 
too, it brings Shakspere before us, mixing with his Stratford 
neighbours at their sheep-shearing and country sports, en- 
joying the vagabond pedlar's gammon and talk, delighting 
in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, and buying them " fair- 
ings," telling goblin stories to the boys, " There was a man 
dwelt by a churchyard," f — opening his heart afresh to all 
the innocent mirth, and the beauty of nature around him. 
He borrowd the improbable story of his play from a popu- 
lar tale by his old abuser Greene, Pandosto (or Dorastus and 

* The Leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. xci. 
t Who will finish it for us ? 



INTRODUCTION. ,e 

Fawnia — who is Perdita), of which the first edition in 1588 
was followd by thirteen others, and which puts the inland 
Bohemia on the sea-shore, as Shakspere does. This tale 
contains no original of Paulina and Autolycus, or the recon- 
ciliation of Leontes and Hermione;* the shepherd's wife's 
name is Mopsa; the queen dies on hearing of the death of 
her son. Shakspere changes Bohemia for Sicily, and vice 
versa. We must accept the medley and anachronisms of 
this play, as Hudson says, "making Whitsun pastorals, Chris- 
tian burial, Giulio Romano, the Emperor of Russia, and Pu- 
ritans singing psalms to hornpipes, all contemporary with 
the oracle of Delphi. "f "It is a winter's tale, an old tale," 
and one must not object to confusions in it. It is Greene's 
tale, informd by a new spirit, instinct with a new life. The 
play is late in metre, in feeling, in purpose. It has no five- 
measure ryme in the dialogue, its end-stopt lines are only 
one in 2.12, its double-endings are as many as one in 2.85; 
it has passages in Shakspere's latest budding style, "What 
you do, still betters what is done," etc. Its purpose, its les- 
son, are to teach forgiveness of wrongs, not vengeance for 
them ; to give the sinner time to repent and amend, not to 
cut him off in his sin; to frustrate the crimes he has pur- 
post. And as in Pericles., father and lost daughter, and wife 
and mother thought dead, meet again \ as in Cymbeline, father 
and injured daughter meet again, she forgiving her wrongs; 
as there, too, friends meet again, the injured friend forgiving 
his wrongs, so here do lost daughter, injured daughter and 
injuring father, meet, he being forgiven ; so injured friend 
forgiving, meets injuring friend forgiven; while above all 
rises the figure of the noble, long-suffering wife Hermione, 
forgiving the base though now repentant husband who had 
so cruelly injured her. She links this play to Shakspere's 

* And none of Antigonus or the shepherd's son. 

t Compare what Uh-ici and Gervinus say in the extracts on pp. 13 
and 17 above. — Ed. 



36 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



last fragment, Heniy VIII. ^ and makes us believe that this 
twice-repeated reunion of husband and wife, in their daugh- 
ter, late in life, this twice -repeated forgiveness of sinning 
husbands by sinnd-against wives, have somewhat to do with 
Shakspere's reunion with his wife, and his renewd family 
life at Stratford. The Fourth-Period melody is heard all 
through the play. We see, too, in The Winter's Tale the con- 
trast between court and country that The Tempest and Cym- 
beliiie showd us. Plenty of other links there are, of which 
we will note only two : First, one like the sword line at the 
end of Tear and Othello^ " Slander, whose sting is sharper 
than the sword's" {Winter's Tale, ii. 3. 85); " Slander, whose 
edge is sharper than the sword" (Cymbeline, iii. 4. 35); and 
second, the clown's clothes making the gentleman -born in 
Winter's Tale, and Cloten's " Know'st thou me not by my 
clothes V In The Tempest we have a storm as here, while 
our play is linkt to Othello by the king's monomaniacal jeal- 
ousy being like Othello's, though here it is self-suggested, not 
from without by an lago. Paulina here is a truer Emilia : 
she steals no handkerchief: but the ladies are alike in 
their love for their mistresses, and in their violent indigna- 
tion, so well-deservd, against their masters. The pretty 
picture of the two kings' early friendship, which reminds us 
of those of Celia and Rosalind in As You like It, and of 
Hermia and Helena in the Dream^ is soon broken down 
by the monomania of Leontes's jealousy, and the disgrace- 
fulness of his talking to his boy Mamillius about his wife's 
supposd adultery. His attempt to get Camillo to poison 
Polixenes is more direct than even John's with Hubert to 
murder Arthur, Richard's with Tyrrel to strangle the inno- 
cents, Henry the Fourth's with Exton to clear Richard the 
Second from his path. His sending his guiltless daughter 
to her death, and his insistence on his wife's guilt and trial, 

*Nole the likeness of Hermione's how pretence of love Avill manage 
wives, to that of Luciana in the Errors. 



INTRODUCTION, 3y 

are almost madness too. But his repentance, like Posthu- 
mus's, comes at last, and is, we hope, as real. At any rate, 
he gets the benefit of Shakspere's Fourth-Period mood, which 
has restord to him the wife and daughter whom he never 
deservd. Hermione is, I suppose, the most magnanimous 
and noble of Shakspere's women ; without a fault, she suf- 
fers, and for sixteen years, as if for the greatest fault. If 
we contrast her noble defence of herself against the shame- 
less imputation on her honour, with the conduct of earlier 
women in like case, the faltering words and swoon of Hero, 
the few ill-starrd sentences of Desdemona, saying just what 
would worst inflame her husband's wrath, the pathetic ap- 
peal and yet submission of Imogen, we see how splendidly 
Shakspere has developt in his last great creation. And 
when Camillo's happy suggestion that Florizel should take 
Perdita to Sicily and Leontes has borne fruit, and Shak- 
spere — forced to narrative, as in the news of Lear to Corde- 
lia — unites father and daughter, and then brings both into 
union before us with the mother thought so long a corpse 
and still a stone, the climax of pathos and delight is reacht: 
art can no farther go, Combind with this noble, suffering 
figure of Hermione, and her long-sunderd married life, is 
the sweet picture of Perdita's and Florizel's love and happy 
future. Shakspere shows us more of Perdita than of Mi- 
randa; and heavenly as the innocence of Miranda was, we 
yet feel that Perdita comes to us with a sweeter, more earth- 
like charm, though not less endowd with all that is pure 
and holy, than her sister of the imaginary Mediterranean 
isle. On these two sweet English girls, bright with the ra- 
diance of youth and love, the mind delights to linger, and 
does so with happiness, while sadness haunts the recollec- 
tion of Shakspere's first great girl-figure Juliet, beautiful in 
different kind. 

Not only do we see Shakspere's freshness of spirit in his 
production of Perdita, but also in his creation of Autolycus. 



38 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

That, at the close of his dramatic life, after all the troubles 
he had passt through, Shakspere had yet the youngness of 
heart to bubble out into this merry rogue, the incarnation 
of fun and rascality, and let him sail off successful and un- 
harmd, is wonderful. And that there is no diminution of 
his former comic power is shown, too, in his clown, who 
wants but somethins: to be a reasonable man. 




THE AVON AT WEIR BRAKE. 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Leontes, King of Sicilia. 
Mamillius, young Prince of Sicilia. 
Camillo, ^ 



Antigonus, I 



Four Lords of Sicilia. 



Cleomenes, 

Dion, j 

Polixenes, King of Bohemia. 

Florizel, Prince of Bohemia. 

Archidamus, a Lord of Bohemia. 

Old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita. 

Clown, his son. 

AuTOLYCus, a rogue. 

A Mariner. 

A Gaoler. 



Hermione, Queen to Leontes. 
Perdita, daughter to Leontes and Her- 
mione. 
Paulina, wife to Antigonus. 
Emilia, a lady attending on Hermione. 
Mopsa, ) 



Dorcas, ) 



Shepherdesses. 



Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Offi- 
cers, Guards, Servants, Shepherds, and 
Shepherdesses. 

Time, as Chorus. 

Scene : Sicilia and Bohemia. 



, ,,.|J„i.i; 




PORTAL OF PALACE COURT, PRAGUE. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. Antechmnber in the Palace of Leontcs. 

Enter Camillo and Archidaimus. 

Archidamus. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohe- 
mia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on 
foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt 
our Bohemia and your Sicilia. 



42 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

Camillo. I think, this coming summer, the King of SiciUa 
means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes 
him. 

Archidamus. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us 
we will be justified in our loves; for indeed — 

Camillo. Beseech you, — lo 

Archidamus. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowl- 
edge; we cannot with such magnificence — in so rare — I know 
not what to say. AVe will give you sleepy drinks, that your 
senses, unintelligent of our insufBcience, may, though they 
cannot praise us, as little accuse us. 

Camillo. You pay a great deal too dear for what 's given 
freely. 

Archidamus. Believe me, I speak as my understanding in- 
structs me and as mine honesty puts it to utterance. 19 

Camillo. Sicilia cannot show himself over -kind to Bohe- 
mia. They were trained together in their childhoods ; and 
there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which can- 
not choose but branch now\ Since their more mature dig- 
nities and royal necessities made separation of their society, 
their encounters, though not personal, hath been royally 
attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embas- 
sies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent, 
shook hands, as over a vast, and embraced, as it were, from 
the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their 
loves ! 30 

Archidamus. I think there is not in the world either malice 
or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of 
your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the great- 
est promise that ever came into my note. 

Camillo. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him. 
It is a gallant child ; one that indeed physics the subject, 
makes old hearts fresh : they that went on crutches ere he 
was born desire yet their life to see him a man. 

Archidamus. Would they else be content to die? 39 



ACT I. SCENE II. 43 

Camilla. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they 
should desire to live. 

Arc/iidamiis. If the king had no son, they would desire Id 
live on crutches till he had one. {^Exeimt. 

Scene II. A Room of State m the Same. 

Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes^ Camil- 

LO, a7id Attendants. 

Polixenes. Nine changes of the watery star hath been 
The shepherd's note since we have left our throne 
Without a burthen : time as long again 
Would be fiU'd up, my brother, with our thanks; 
And yet we should, for perpetuity, 
Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cipher. 
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply 
With one ' We thank you ' many thousands moe 
That go before it. 

Leontes. Stay your thanks a while; 

And pay them when you part. 

Polixenes. Sir, that 's to-morrow. lo 

I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance 
Or breed upon our absence. — That may blow 
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say 
'This is put forth too truly !' — Besides, I have stay'd 
To tire your royalty. 

Leontes. We are tougher, brother, 

Than you can put us to 't. 

Polixenes. No longer stay. 

Leontes. One seven-night longer. 

Polixenes. Very sooth, to-morrow. 

Leontes. We '11 part the time between 's then; and in that 
I '11 no gainsaying. 

Polixenes. Press me not, beseech you, so. 

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, 20 



44 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

So soon as yours could win me; so it should now, 

Were there necessity in your request, although 

'T were needful I denied it. My affairs 

Do even drag me homeward : which to hinder 

Were in your love a whip to me ; my stay 

To you a charge and trouble : to save both. 

Farewell, our brother. 

Leontes. Tongue-tied our queen ? speak you. 

HermioJie. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until 
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir. 
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure 30 

All in Bohemia 's well; this satisfaction 
The bygone day proclaim'd : say this to him. 
He 's beat from his best ward. 

Leontes. Well said, Hermione. 

Hermio7ie. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong : 
But let him say so then, and let him go j 
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay. 
We '11 thwack him hence with distaffs. — 
Yet of your royal presence I '11 adventure 
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia 
You take my lord, I '11 give him my commission 40 

To let him there a month behind the gest 
Prefix'd for 's parting ;— yet, good deed, Leontes, 
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind 
What lady she her lord.— You '11 stay .? 

Polixenes. No, madam. 

Hermione. Nay, but you will ? 

Polixenes. I may not, verily. 

Hermione. Verily! 
You put me off with limber vows ; but I, 
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, 
Should yet say ' Sir, no going.' Verily, 
You shall not go ; a lady's ' Verily ' is 50 

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? 



ACT I. SCENE II. .- 

45 

Force me to keep you as a prisoner, 

Not like a guest ; so you shall pay your fees 

When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? 

My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' 

One of them you shall be. 

Folixenes. Your guest, then, madam : 

To be your prisoner should import offending; 
Which is for me less easy to commit 
Than you to punish. 

Hermione. Not your gaoler, then, 

But your kind hostess. Come, I '11 question you 60 

Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys ; 
You were pretty lordings then ? 

Folixenes. We were, fair queen, 

Two lads that thought there was no more behind 
But such a day to-morrow as to-day. 
And to be boy eternal. 

Hermione. Was not my lord 

The verier wag o' the two ? 

Folixenes. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, 
And bleat the one at the other. What we changed 
Was innocence for innocence ; we knew not 
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd 70 

That any did. Had we pursued that life, 
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd 
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven 
Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd 
Hereditary ours. 

Hermione. By this we gather 

You have tripp'd since. 

Folixenes. O my most sacred lady! 

Temptations have since then been born to 's: for 
In those unfledg'd days w^as my wife a girl ; 
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes 
Of my young play-fellow. 



46 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Hermione. Grace to boot ! 80 

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say 
Your queen and I are devils. Yet go on ; 
The offences we have made you do we '11 answer, 
If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us 
You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not 
With any but with us. 

Leontes. Is he won yet ? 

Hermione. He '11 stay, my lord. 

Leontes. At my request he would 

not. 
Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st 
To better purpose. 

Hermione. Never "^ 

Leontes. Never, but once. 

Hermione. What ! have I twice said well 1 when was 't 
before ? 90 

I prithee tell me ; cram 's with praise, and make 's 
As fat as tame things : one good deed dying tongueless 
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. 
Our praises are our wages ; you may ride 's 
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere 
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal : 
My last good deed was to entreat his stay ; 
What was my first 1 it has an elder sister. 
Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace ! 
But once before I spoke to the purpose \ when ? 100 

Nay, let me have 't ; I long. 

Leontes. Why, that was when 

Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death. 
Ere L could make thee open thy white hand 
And clap thyself my love ; then didst thou utter 
'I am yours for ever.' 

Herm ione. ' T i s gr ac e indeed. 

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice : 



ACT I. SCENE II. 



47 



The one for ever earn'd a royal husband ; 
The other for some while a friend. 

Leontes. \Aside\ Too hot, too hot ! 

To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. 
I have tremor cordis on me : my heart dances; no 

But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment 
May a free face put on, derive a liberty 
From heartiness, from bounty's fertile bosom, 
And well become the agent ; 't may, I grant ; 
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, 
As now they are, and making practis'd smiles. 
As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 't were 
The mort o' the deer, — O, that is entertainment 
My bosom likes not, nor my brows ! — Mamillius, 
Art thou my boy ? 

Mamillius. Ay, my good lord. 

Leontes. I' fecks ! 120 

Why, that 's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose ? — 
They say it is a copy out of mine. — Come, captain, 
We must be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, captain : 
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf 
Are all call'd neat.^Still virginalling 
Upon his palm! — How now, you wanton calf! 
Art thou my calf? 

Mamillius. Yes, if you will, my lord. 

Leontes. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I 
have. 
To be full like me : yet they say we are 
Almost as like as eggs ; women say so, 13° 

That will say any thing : but were they false 
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false 
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes 
No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true 
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, 
Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain I 



48 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Most dear'st ! my collop ! Can thy dam ? — may 't be ? — ■ 

Affection ! thy intention stabs the centre : 

Thou dost make possible things not so held, 

Communicat'st with dreams; — how can this be? — 140 

With what 's unreal thou coactive art, 

And fellow'st nothing. Then 't is very credent 

Thou mayst co-join with something ; and thou dost, 

And that beyond commission, and I find it, 

And that to the infection of my brains 

And hardening of my brows. 

Polixenes. What means Sicilia? 

Hermione. He something seems unsettled. 

Polixenes. How, my lord ! 

What cheer? how is 't with you, best brother? 

Hermione. You look 

As if you held a brow of much distraction ; 
Are you mov'd, my lord ? 

Leontes. No, in good earnest. — 150 

How sometimes nature will betray it's folly, 
It's tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines 
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil 
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, 
In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, 
Lest it should bite it's master, and so prove. 
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous. 
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel. 
This squash, this gentleman. — Mine honest friend, 160 

Will you take eggs for money ? 

Mamillius. No, my lord, I '11 fight. 

Leontes. You will ! why, happy man be 's dole ! — My 
brother. 
Are you so fond of your young prince as we 
Do seem to be of ours ? 

Polixenes. If at home, sir, 



ACT I. SCENE II. 49 

He 's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter. 

Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy. 

My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all. 

He makes a July's day short as December, 

And with his varying childness cures in me 170 

Thoughts that would thick my blood. 

Leontes. So stands this squire 

Offic'd with me. We two will walk, my lord, 
And leave you to your graver steps. — -iiermionfi,, 
HoBLthaiL-lav'st us^&howin our brother's welcome ; 
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap : 
Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's 
Apparent to my heart. 

Hermio7ie. If you would seek us. 

We are yours i' the garden ; shall 's attend you there } 

LeoTites. To your own bents dispose you ; you '11 be 
found, 
Be you beneath the sky. — \Aside\ I am angling now, 180 

Though you perceive me not how I give line. 
Go to, go to ! 

How she holds up the neb, the bill to him ! 
And arms her with the boldness of a wife 
To her allowing husband ! 

\Exeunt Folixenes, Het-mione^ and Attendants. 
Gone already! 
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one ! — 
Go, play, boy, play. — Thy mother plays, and I 
Play too, but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue 
Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour 
Will be my knell— Go, play, boy, play.—There have been, 190 
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now. 
Should all despair 

That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
Would hang themselves. Ph3-sic for 't there is none ; 
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike 

D 



^o THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Where 't is predominant : many thousand on 's 
Have the disease, and feel 't not. — How now, boy ! 

Mamillius. I am hke you, they say. 

Leontes. Why, that 's some comfort.— 

What, Camillo there ? 

CaniUlo, Ay, my good lord. 200 

Leontes. Go play, Mamillius ; thou 'rt an honest man. — 

\_Exit Mamillius. 
Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. 

Camillo. You had much ado to make his anchor hold; 
When you cast out, it still came home. 

Leontes. Didst note it.-* 

Cajnillo. He would not stay at your petitions, made 
His business more material. 

Leontes. Didst perceive it ? — 

\Aside^^T\\^^ 're here with me already, whispering, rounding, 
' Sicilia is a so-forth ;' 't is far gone. 
When I shall gust it last. — How came 't, Camillo, 
That he did stay ? 

Camillo. At the good queen's entreaty. 210 

Leontes. At the queen's be 't : 'good' should be pertinent; 
But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken 
By any understanding pate but thine? 
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in 
More than the common blocks ; — ^^not noted, is 't, 
But of the finer natures? by some severals 
Of head-piece extraordinary ? lower messes 
Perchance are to this business purblind ? say. 

Camillo. Business, my lord ! I think most understand 
Bohemia stays here longer. 

Leontes. Ha ! 

Camillo. Stays here longer. 220 

Leontes. Ay, but why ? 

Camillo. To satisfy your highness and the entreaties 
Of our most gracious mistress. 



ACT I. SCENE IL 

Leontes. Satisfy ! 

The entreaties of your mistress ! satisfy ! 
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, 
/With all the nearest things to my heart, as well 
/ My chamber-counsels, wherein, priest-like, thou 
■ Hast cleans'd my bosom, I from thee departed 
Thy penitent reform'd ; but we have been 
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd 
In that which seems so. 

Camillo, Be it forbid, my lord ! 

Leontes, To bide upon 't, thou art not honest, or, 
If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, 
Which boxes honesty behind, restraining 
From course requir'd ; or else thou must be counted 
A servant grafted in my serious trust 
And therein negligent ; or else a fool 
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, 
And tak'st it all for jest. 

Camillo. My gracious lord, 

I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful; 
In every one of these no man is free, 
But that his negligence, his folly, fear, 
Among the infinite doings of the world, 
Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, 
If ever I were wilful-negligent. 
It was my folly ; if industriously 
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 
Not weighing well the end ; if ever fearful 
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted. 
Whereof the execution did cry out 
Against the non-performance, 't was a fear 
Which oft infects the wisest : these, my lord, 
Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty 
Is never free of But, beseech your grace. 
Be plainer with me ; let me know my trespass 



51 



C2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

By it's own visage : if I then deny it, 
'T is none of mine. 

Leoiites. Ha' not you seen, Camillo, — • 

But that 's past doubt ; you have, or your eye-glass 
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, — or heard, — 
For to a vision so apparent rumour 
Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation 
Resides not in that man that does not think, — • 
My wife is slippery ? If thou wilt confess, 
Or else be impudently negative, 
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say 
My wife 's a hobby-horse ; say 't and justify 't. 

Camillo. I would not be a stander-by to hear 
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without 
My present vengeance taken. 'Shrew my heart, 
You never spoke what did become you less 
Than this ; which to reiterate were sin 
As deep as that, though true. 

Leontes. Is whispering nothing ? 

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? 
Kissing with inside lip ? stopping the career 
Of laughing with a sigh ? — a note infallible 
Of breaking honesty — horsing foot on foot? 
Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? 
Hours, minutes ? noon, midnight ? and all eyes 
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, 
That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? 
Why, then the world and all that 's in 't is nothing; 
The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing ; 
My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have these nothings. 
If this be nothing. 

Camillo. Good my lord, be cur'd 

Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes ; 
For 't is most dangerous. 

Leontes. Say it be, 't is true. 



ACT I. SCENE II. 53 

Camillo. No, no, my lord. 

Leontes. It is ; you lie, you lie : 

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee. 
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave. 
Or else a hovering temporizer, that 290 

Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, 
Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver 
Infected as her life, she would not live 
The running of one glass. 

Camillo. Who does infect her ? 

Leontes. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging 
About his neck, Bohemia; — who, if I 
Had servants true about me, that bare eyes 
To see alike mine honour as their profits, 
Their own particular thrifts, they would do that 
Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou, 300 

His cup-bearer, — whom I from meaner form 
Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see 
Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven. 
How I am galled, — mightst bespice a cup. 
To give mine enemy a lasting wink ; 
Which draught to me were cordial. 

Camillo. Sir, my lord, 

I could do this, and that with no rash potion. 
But with a lingering dram that should not work 
Maliciously like poison; but I cannot 

Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, 3fo 

So sovereignly being honourable. 
I have lov'd thee, — 

Leo7ites. Make that thy question, and go rot ! 

Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, 
To appoint myself in this vexation, sully 
The purity and whiteness of my sheets. 
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted 
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps, 



54 . THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, 

Who I do think is mine and love as mine, 

Without ripe moving to 't ? Would I do this ? 320 

Could man so blench? 

Camillo. I must believe you, sir: 

_ I do j and will fetch off Bohemia for 't : 
Provided that, when he 's remov'd, your highness 
Will take again your queen as yours at first. 
Even for your son's sake ; and thereby for sealing 
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms 
Known and allied to yours. 

Leontes. • Thou dost advise me 

Even so as I mine own course have set down; 
I '11 give no blemish to her honour, none. 

Camillo. My lord, 330 

Go then ; and with a countenance as clear 
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia 
And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer; 
If from me he have wholesome beverage, 
Account me not your servant. 

Leontes. This is all : 

Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart; 
Do 't not, thou split'st thine own. 

Camillo. I '11 do 't, my lord. 

Leontes. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me. 

\Exit. 

Camillo. O miserable lady ! — But, for me, 
What case stand I in ? I must be the poisoner 340 

Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do 't 
vis the obedience to a master, one 
iWho in rebellion with himself will have 
All that are his so too. To do this deed, 
Promotion follows. If I could find example 
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings 
And flourish'd after, I 'd not do 't; but since 



AC7' l. SCENE IT. 55 

Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, 

Let villany itself forswear 't. I must 

Forsake the court; to do 't, or no, is certain 350 

To me a break-neck. — Happy star reign now ! 

Here comes Bohemia. 

Re-efiter Polixenes. 

Polixenes. This is strange ! me thinks 

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak.? — 
Good day, Camillo. 

Camillo. Hail, most royal sir ! 

Polixenes. What is the news i' the court.'' 

Camillo. None rare, my lord. 

Polixenes. The king hath on him such a countenance 
As he had lost some province, and a region 
Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met him 
With customary compliment, when he, 
Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling 360 

A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and 
So leaves me to consider what is breeding 
That changeth thus his manners. 

Camillo. I dare not know, my lord. 

Polixenes. How! dare not! — do not.'* Do you know, and 
dare not 
Be intelligent to me? 't is thereabouts; 
For, to yourself, what you do know you must. 
And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo, 
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror 
Which shows me mine chang'd too; for I must be 370 

A party in this alteration, findmg 
Myself thus alter'd with 't. 

Ca7nillo. There is a sickness 

Which puts some of us in distemper, but 
I cannot name the disease ; and it is caught 
Of you that yet are well. 



56 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Polixenes. How ! caught of me ! 

Make me not sighted like the basilisk ; 
I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better 
By my regard, but kilFd none so. Camillo, — 
As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto 
Clerk-like experienc'd, which no less adorns 380 

Our gentry than our parents' noble names. 
In whose success we are gentle, — I beseech you, 
If you know aught which does behove my knowledge 
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison 't not 
In ignorant concealment. 

Camillo. I may not answer. 

Polixenes. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well ! 
I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo, 
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man 
Which honour does acknowledge, — whereof the least 
Is not this suit of mine, — that thou declare 390 

What incidency thou dost guess of harm 
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; 
Which way to be prevented, if to be; 
If not, how best to bear it. 

Camillo. Sir, I will tell you; 

Since I am charg'd in honour and by him 
That I think honourable; therefore mark my counsel, 
Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as 
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me 
Cry lost, and so good night ! 

Polixenes. On, good Camillo. 

Camillo. I am appointed him to murther you. 400 

Polixenes. By whom, Camillo t 

Camillo. By the king. 

Polixefies. ' For what ? 

Camillo. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears. 
As he had seen 't or been an instrument 
^/ To vice you to 't, — that you have touch'd his queen 
Forbiddenly. 



ACT I. SCENE II. ey 

Polixefies. O, then my best blood turn 
To an infected jelly, and my name 
Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best ! 
Turn then my freshest reputation to 
A savour that may strike the dullest nostril 
Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, 4,0 

Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection 
That e'er was heard or read ! 

Camillo. Swear his thought over 

By each particular star in heaven and 
By all their influences, you may as well 
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon 
As or by oath remove or counsel shake 
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation 
Is pil'd upon his faith and will continue 
The standing of his body. 

Polixenes. How should this grow ? 

Cajnillo. I know not; but I am sure 't is safer to 420 

Avoid what 's grown than question how 't is born. 
If therefore you dare trust my honesty. 
That lies enclosed in this trunk which you 
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night ! 
Your followers I will whisper to the business, 
And will by twos and threes at several posterns 
Clear them o' the city. For myself, I '11 put 
My fortunes to your service, which are here 
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain ; 
For, by the honour of my parents, I 430 

Have utter'd truth : which if you seek to prove, 
I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer 
Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon 
His execution sworn. 

Polixefies. I do believe thee; 

I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand; 
Be pilot to me, and thy places shall 



^8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and 

My people did expect my hence departure 

Two days ago. This jealousy 

Is for a precious creature ; as she 's rare, 44° 

Must it be great, and as his person 's mighty, 

Must it be violent, and as he does conceive 

He is dishonoured by a man which ever 

Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must 

In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me; 

Good expedition be my friend, and comfort 

The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing 

Of his ill-ta'en suspicion !— Come, Camillo; 

I will respect thee as a father, if 

Thou bear'st my life off hence : let us avoid. 4So 

Ca?nillo. It is in mine authority to command 
The keys of all the posterns; please your highness 
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. \Exnmt. 




A CASTLE IN BOHEMIA. 




OLD CORONATION CHAMBER, ROYAL PALACE, PRAGUE. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. A Room in the Palace of Leo?tfes. 
Enter Hermione, Mamilltus, and Ladies. 

Hennione. Take the boy to you; he so troubles me, 
'T is past enduring. 

I Lady. Come, my gracious lord, 

Shall I be your playfellow ? 

Mainillms. No, I '11 none of you. 

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord ? 

MamilUus. You '11 kiss me hard, and speak to me as if 
I were a baby still. — I love you better. 

2 Lady. And why so, my lord ? 

MamilUus. Not for because 

Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say, 



6o THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Become some women best, so that there be not 

Too much hair there, but in a semicircle, lo 

Or a half-moon made with a pen. 

2 Lady. Who taught you this ? 

Mamillius. I learnt it out of women's faces. — Pray now, 
What colour are your eyebrows ? 

I Lady. Blue, my lord. 

MaiTiillms. Nay, that 's a mock; I have seen a lady's nose 
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. 

1 Lady. Hark ye ; 
The queen your mother rounds apace : we shall 
Present our services to a fine new prince 

One of these days; and then you 'd wanton with us, 
If we would have you. 

2 Lady. She is spread of late 

Into a goodly bulk; good time encounter her! 20 

LLermione. What wisdom stirs amongst you ? — Come, sir, 
now 
I am for you again ; pray you, sit by us. 
And tell 's a tale. 

Mamillius. Merry or sad shall 't be ? 

LLer7nione. As merry as you will. 

Mamillius. A sad tale 's best for wmter; I have one 
Of sprites and goblins. 

ILermiojte. Let 's have that, good sir. 

Come on, sit down : come on, and do your best 
To fright me with your sprites; you 're powerful at it. 

Mamillius. There was a man — 

LLermione. Nay, come, sit down; then on, 

Mamillius. Dwelt by a churchyard :— I will tell it softly; 
Yond crickets shall not hear it. 

LLermione. Come on, then, 31 

And give 't me in mine ear. 



ACT II. SCENE I. 6 1 

Enter Leontes, with Antigonus, Lords, and others. 

Leontes. Was he met there ? his train ? Camillo with him? 

I Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them ; never 
Saw I men scour so on their way : I eyed them 
Even to their ships, 

Leontes. How blest am I 

In my just censure, in my true opinion ! 
Alack, for lesser knowledge ! how accurs'd 
In being so blest ! There may be in the cup 
A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart, 40 

And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge 
Is not infected; but if one present 
The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known 
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides. 
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider. 
Camillo was his help in this, his pander. 
There is a plot against my life, my crown ; 
All 's true that is mistrusted : that false villain 
Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him. 
He has discover'd my design, and I 50 

Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick 
For them to play at will. — How came the posterns 
So easily open ? 

I Lord. By his great authority, 

Which often hath no less prevail'd than so 
On your command. 

Leontes. I know 't too well. 

Give me the boy; I am glad 3^ou did not nurse him : 
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you 
Have too much blood in him. 

ILermione. What is this ? sport ? 

Leontes. Bear the boy hence ; he shall not come about her; 
Away with him ! — You, my lords, 60 

Look on her, mark her well; be but about 



62 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

To say ' she is a goodly lady,' and 

The justice of your hearts will thereto add 

"T is pity she 's not honest, honourable.' 

Praise her but for this her without-door form, 

Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight 

The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands 

That calumny doth use — O, I am out — 

That mercy does, for calumny will sear 

Virtue itself; these shrugs, these hums and ha's, 70 

When you have said ' she 's goodly,' come between 

Ere you can say ' she 's honest :' but be 't known, 

From him that has most cause to grieve it should be, 

She 's an adulteress. 

Hermmie. Should a villain say so. 

The most replenish'd villain in the world, 
He were as much more villain ; you, my lord, 
Do but mistake. ' : 

Leontes. You have mistook, my lady, 

Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing ! 
Which I '11 not call a creature of thy place. 
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent, 80 

Should a like language use to all degrees, 
And mannerly distinguishment leave out 
Betwixt the prince and beggar. — I have said 
She 's an adulteress; I have said with whom : 
More, she 's a traitor, and Camillo is 
A federary with her, and one that knows 
What she should shame to know herself 
But with her most vile principal, that she 's 
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those 

That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy 90 

To this their late escape. 

Hermione. No, by my life, 

Privy to none of this. [How will this grieve you,* 
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, thatj 



ACT II. SCENE I 63 

You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord, 
You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
You did mistake. 

Leo7ites. No; if I mistake 

In those foundations which I build upon, 
The centre is not big enough to bear 
A school-boy's top. — Away with her ! to prison ! 
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty 100 

But that he speaks. 

Hermioiie. There 's some ill planet reigns; 

I must be patient till the heavens look 
With an aspect more favourable. — Good my lords, 
I am not prone to weeping, As our sex 
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew 
Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have 
That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns 
Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords, 
W^ith thoughts so qualified as your charities 
Shall best instruct you, measure me; — and so no 

The. king's will be perform'd ! 

Leontes. Shall I be heard ? 

Ilermiojie. Who is 't that goes with me? — Beseech your 
highness, 
My women may be with me; for you see 
My plight requires it. — Do not weep, good fools; 
There is no cause : when you shall know your mistress 
Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears 
As I come out. This action I now go on 
Is for my better grace. — Adieu, my lord': 
I never wish'd to see you sorry; now 
I trust I shall. — My women, come; you have leave. 120 

Leontes. Go, do our bidding; hence ! 

\Exit Queen, guarded ; with Ladies. 

I Lord. Beseech your highness, call the queen again. 

Antigonus. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice 



64 



THE WINTER'S TALE, 



Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, 
Yourself, your queen, your son. 

I Lord. For her, my lord, 

I dare my life lay down, and will do 't, sir. 
Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless 
I' the eyes of heaven and to you, — I mean, 
In this which you accuse her. 

Antigonus. If it prove 

She 's otherwise, I '11 keep my stables where 130 

I lodge my wife; I '11 go in couples with her; 
Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her : 
For every inch of woman in the world, 
A}'', every dram of woman's flesh, is false, 
If she be. 

Leontes. Hold your peaces. 

I Lord. Good my lord, — 

Antigonus, It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: 
You are abus'd, and by some putter-on 
That will be damn'd for 't ; would I knew the villain, 
I would land-damn him. 

Leontes. Cease; no more. 

You smell this business with a sense as cold 140 

As is a dead man's nose ; but I do see 't and feel 't, 
As you feel doing thus, and see withal 
The instruments that feel, 

Antigonus. If it be so, 

We need no grave to bury honesty; 
There 's not a grain of it the face to sweeten 
Of the whole dungy 'earth. 

Leontes. What ! lack I credit ? 

I Lord. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord. 
Upon this ground ; and more it would content me 
To have her honour true than your suspicion, 
Be blam'd for 't how you might. 

Leontes. Why, what need we 150 



ACT II. SCENE I. (5 5 

Commune with you of this, but rather follow 
Our forceful instigation ? Our prerogative 
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness 
Imparts this; which if you, or stupefied 
Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not 
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves 
We need no more of your advice : the matter, 
The loss, the gain, the ordering on 't, is all 
Properly ours. 

Antigonus. And I wish, my liege. 
You had only in your silent judgment tried it, t6o 

Without more overture, 

Leoiites. How could that be ? 

Either thou art most ignorant by age, 
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight, 
Added to their familiarity, — 
Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture, 
That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation 
But only seeing, all other circumstances 
Made up to the deed, — doth push on this proceeding. 
Yet, for a greater confirmation, — 

For in an act of this importance 't were 170 

Most piteous to be wild, — I have dispatch'd in post 
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple, 
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know 
Of stufif'd sufficiency. Now from the oracle 
They will bring all ; whose spiritual counsel had, 
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well 1 

I Lord. Well done, my lord. 

Leontes. Though I am satisfied and need no more 
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle 

Give rest to the minds of others, such as he 180 

Whose ignorant credulity will not 
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good 
From our free person she should be confin'd, 

E 



66 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence 
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us ; 
We are to speak in public ; for this business 
Will raise us all. 

Antigonus. [Aside] To laughter, as I take it, 
If the good truth were known. • \Exeunt. 

Scene II. A Prison. 
Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Attendants. 

Paulina. The keeper of the prison, call to him ; 
Let him have knowledge who I am. — \Exit Gentleman?^ 

Good lady, 
No-court in Europe is too good for thee; 
What dost thou then in prison ? — 

Re-enter Gentleman, with the Gaoler. 
Now, good sir. 
You know me, do you not ? 

Gaoler. For a worthy lady, 

And one whom much I honour. 

Paulina. Pray you then. 

Conduct me to the queen. 

Gaoler. I may not, madam ; 

To the contrary I have express commandment. 

Paulina. Here 's ado. 
To lock up honesty and honour from lo 

The access of gentle visitors ! — Is 't lawful, pray you. 
To see her women? any of them? Emilia? 

Gaoler. So please you, madam. 
To put apart these your attendants, I 
Shall bring Emilia forth. 

Paulina. I pray now, call her. — 

Withdraw yourselves. \Exeunt Gentleinan and Attendants. 

Gaoler. And, madam, 

I must be present at your conference. 



ACT II. SCENE II 67 

Paulina. Well, be 't so, prithee. — [Exit Gaoler. 

Here 's such ado to make no stain a stain 
As passes colouring. — 

Re-enter Gaoler, with Emilia. 

Dear gentlewoman, 20 

How fares our gracious lady ? 

Emilia. As well as one so great and so forlorn 
May hold together ; on her frights and griefs. 
Which never tender lady hath borne greater, 
She is something before her time deliver'd. 

Paulina. A boy? 

Emilia. A daughter, and a goodly babe, 

Lusty and like to live: the queen receives 
Much comfort in 't; says ' My poor prisoner, 
I am innocent as you.' 

Paulifia. I dare be sworn. — 

These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, beshrew them ! 30 
He must be told on 't, and he shall : the office 
Becomes a woman best; I '11 take 't upon me. 
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister 
And never to my red-look'd anger be 
The trumpet any more. — Pray you, Emilia, 
Commend my best obedience to the queen; 
If she dares trust me with her little babe, 
I '11 show 't the king, and undertake to be 
Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know 
How he may soften at the sight o' the child ; 40 

The silence often of pure innocence 
Persuades when speaking fails. 

Emilia. Most worthy madam, 

Your honour and your goodness is so evident 
That your free undertaking cannot miss 
A thriving issue; there is no lady living 
So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship 



68 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

To visit the next room, I '11 presently 

Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer; 

Who but to-day hammer'd of this design, 

But durst not tempt a minister of honour, so 

Lest she should be denied. 

Paulina. Tell her, Emilia, 

I '11 use that tongue I have ; if wit flow from 't 
As boldness from my bosom,Jet 't not be doubted 
I shall do good. 

Emilia. Now be you blest for it ! 

I '11 to the queen ; please you, come something nearer. 

Gaoler. Madam, if 't please the queen to send the babe, 
I know not what I shall incur to pass it. 
Having no warrant. 

Paulina. You need not fear it, sir ; 

This child was prisoner to the womb, and is 
By law and process of great nature thence eo 

Freed and enfranchis'd, not a party to 
The anger of the king, nor guilty of. 
If any be, the trespass of the queen. 

Gaoler. I do believe it, 

Paulina. Do not you fear ; upon mine honour, I 
Will stand betwixt you and danger. [^Exeunt. 

Scene III. A Room in the Palace of Leontes. 
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and Servants. 

Leontes. Nor night nor day no rest ; it is but weakness 
To bear the matter thus, mere weakness. If 
The cause were not in being, — part o' the cause. 
She the adulteress ; for the harlot king 
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank 
And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she 
I can hook to me: — say that she were gone, 
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest 
Might come to me again. — Who 's there 1 



ACT II. SCENE III. 



69 



I Sej'vaiit. My lord? 

Leontes. How does the boy ? 

I Servant. He took good rest to-night ; 

'T is hop'd his sickness is discharg'd. n 

Leontes. To see his nobleness ! 
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, 
He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply, 
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on 't in himself, 
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, 
And downright languish'd. — Leave me solely; go. 
See how he fares. — \Exit Servant.'] Fie, fie ! no thought of 

him; 
The very thought of my revenges that way 
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty, 20 

And in his parties, his alliance. Let him be 
Until a time may serve; for present vengeance, 
Take it on ber. Camillo and Polixenes 
Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow ; 
They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor 
Shall she within my power. 

Enter Paulina, with a child. 

1 Lord. You must not enter. 
Paulina. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me; 

Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, 
Than the queen's life ? a gracious innocent soul, 
More free than he is jealous. 

Antig07ius. That 's enough. 30 

2 Servant. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; com- 

manded 
None should come at him. 

Paulina. Not so hot, good sir ; 

I come to bring him sleep. 'T is such as you, 
That creep like shadows by him and do sigh 
At each his needless heavings, such as you 



70 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Nourish the cause of his awaking; I 
Do come with words as medicinal as true, 
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour 
That presses him from sleep. 

Leontes. What noise there, ho ? 

Paulina. No noise, my lord ; but needful conference 40 
About some gossips for your highness. 

Leontes. How ! — 

Away with that audacious lady ! Antigonus, 
I charg'd thee that she should not come about me ; 
I knew she would. 

Antigonus. I told her so, my lord, 

On your displeasure's peril and on mine, 
She should not visit you. 

Leontes. What, canst not rule her ? 

Paulina. From all dishonesty he can ; in this. 
Unless he take the course that you have done. 
Commit me for committing honour, trust it. 
He shall not rule me. 

Antigonus. La you now, you hear] so 

When she will take the rein I let her run ; 
But she '11 not stumble. 

Paulina. Good my liege, I come, — 

And, I beseech you, hear me, who professes 
Myself your loyal servant, your physician, 
Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dares 
Less appear so in comforting your evils. 
Than such as most seem yours, — I say, I come 
From your good queen. 

L^eontes. Good queen ! 

Paulina. Good queen, my lord, 

Good queen, I say good. queen; 

And would by combat make her good, so were I 60 

A man, the worst about you. 

Leontes. Force her hence. 



ACT 11. SCENE III. 



71 



Paulina. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes 
First hand me; on mine own accord I '11 off, 
But first I '11 do my errand. — The good queen, 
For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter, — 
Here 't is, — commends it to your blessing. 

\Laying down the child. 

Leofites. Out ! 

A mankind witch ! Hence with her, out o' door ! 
A most intelligencing bawd ! 

Paiili?ia. Not so : 

I am as ignorant in that as you 

In so entitling me, and no less honest 70 

Than you are mad ; which is enough, I '11 warrant, 
As this world goes, to pass for honest. 

Leontes. Traitors ! 

Will you not push her out ? Give her the bastard.— 
Thou dotard ! thou art woman-tir'd, unroosted 
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard ; 
Take 't up, I say; give 't to thy crone. 

Paulina. For ever 

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou 
Takest up the princess by that forced baseness 
Which he has put upon 't ! 

Leontes. He dreads his wife. 

Paulina. So I would you did ; then 't were past all doubt 
You 'd call your children yours. 

Leontes. A nest of traitors ! si 

Antigonus. I am none, by this good light. 

Paulina. Nor I, nor any 

But one that 's here, and that 's himself, for he 
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's. 
His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander. 
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's ; and will not— 
For, as the case now stands, it is a curse 
He cannot be compell'd to 't— once remove 



72 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

The root of his opinion, which is rotten 
As ever oak or stone was sound. 

Leontes. A callat go 

Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband 
And now baits me ! — This brat is none of mine; 
It is the issue of Polixenes : 
Hence with it, and together with the dam 
Commit them to the fire! 

Paulina. It is yours ; 

And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, 
So like you, 't is the worse. — Behold, my lords. 
Although the print be little, the whole matter 
And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip. 

The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, loo 

The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, 
His smiles. 

The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger; — 
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it 
So like to him that got it, if thou hast 
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours 
No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does. 
Her children not her husband's ! 

Leontes. A gross hag ! — 

And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, 
That wilt not'stay her tongue. 

Antigonus. Hang all the husbands no 

That cannot do that feat, you '11 leave yourself 
Hardly one subject. 

Leontes. Once more, take her hence. 

Paulina. A most unworthy and unnatural lord 
Can do no more. 

Leo7ites. I '11 ha' thee burnt. 

Paulina. I care not; 

It is an heretic that makes the fire. 
Not she which burns in 't. I '11 not call you tyrant 3 



ACT II. SCENE IIL 73 

But this most cruel usage of your queen, 

Not able to produce more accusation 

Than your own weak-hing'd fancy, something savours 

Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you, 120 

Yea, scandalous to the world. 

Leontes. On your allegiance, 

Out of the chamber with her ! Were I a tyrant, 
Where were her life ? she durst not call me so, 
If she did know me one. Away with her ! 

Paulina. I pray you, do not push me; I '11 be gone. 
Look to your babe, my lord; 't is yours : Jove send her 
A better guiding spirit ! — What needs these hands t — 
You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies, 
Will never do him good, not one of you. — 
So, so. — Farewell ; we are gone. ^Exit. 

Leontes. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this. — 131 
My child ? away with 't ! — Even thou, that hast 
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence 
And see it instantly consum'd with fire ; 
Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight; 
Within this hour bring me word 't is done, 
And by good testimony, or I '11 seize thy life, 
With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse 
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so; 
The bastard brains with these my proper hands 140 

Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire; 
For thou set'st on thy wife. 

Antigonus. I did not, sir; 

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, 
Can clear me in 't. 

Lords. We can ; my royal liege, 

He is not guilty of her coming hither. 

Leo7ites. You 're liars all. 

I Lord. Beseech your highness, give us better credit: 
We have always truly serv'd you, and beseech you 



^4 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

So to esteem of us; and on our knees we beg, 

As recompense of our dear services 150 

Past and to come, that you do change this purpose. 

Which being so horrible, so bloody, must 

Lead on to some foul issue : we all kneel. v 

Leontes. I am a feather for each wind that blowsAf— 
Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel 
And call me father ? better burn it now 
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live. — 
It shall not neither. — You, sir, come you hither; 
You that have been so tenderly officious 
With Lady Margery, your midwife there, 160 

To save this bastard's life, — for 't is a bastard, 
So sure as this beard 's grey, — what will you adventure 
To save this brat's life ? 

Antigonus. Any thing, my lord, 

That my ability may undergo 
And nobleness impose; at least thus much: 
I '11 pawn the little blood which I have left 
To save the innocent; — any thing possible. 

Leontes. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword 
Thou wilt perform my bidding. 

Antigonus. I will, my lord. 

Leontes. Mark and perform it, see'st thou ; for the fail 170 
Of any point in 't shall not only be 
Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife, 
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee, 
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry 
This female bastard hence, and that thou bear it 
To some remote and desert place quite out 
Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it, 
Without more mercy, to it own protection 
And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune 
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee, 180 

On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture. 



ACT IL SCENE III. 



75 



That thou commend it strangely to some place 
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up. 

Aiitigonus. I swear to do this, though a present death 
Had been more merciful. — Come on, poor babe; 
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens 
To be thy nurses ! Wolves and bears, they say, 
Casting their savageness aside, have done 
Like offices of pity. — Sir, be prosperous 
In more than this deed does require ! And blessing 190 

Against this cruelty fight on thy side, 
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss ! \^Exit with the child. 

Leontes. No, I '11 not rear 

Another's issue. 

Enter a Servant. 

Servant. Please your highness, posts 

From those you sent to the oracle are come 
An hour since; Cleomenes and Dion, 
Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed. 
Hasting to the court. 

I Lord. So please you, sir, their speed 

Hath been beyond account. 

Leontes. Twenty-three days 

They have been absent : 't is good speed ; foretells 
The great Apollo suddenly will have 200 

The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords ; 
Summon a session, that we may arraign 
Our most disloyal lady, for, as she hath 
Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have 
A just and open trial. While she lives 
My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me, 
And think upon my bidding. {Exeunt. 




A SEAPORT IN SICILY. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. A Seaport in Sicilia. 
Enter Cleomenes and Dion. 

Cleomenes. The climate 's delicate, the air most sweet, 
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing 
The common praise it bears. 

Dion. I shall report, 

For most it caught me, the celestial habits, — 
Methinks I so should term them, — and the reverence 
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice ! 



ACT III. SCENE II. 77 

How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly 
It was i' the offering ! 

Cleomenes. But of all, the burst 

And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle, 
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surpris'd my sense, lo 

That I was nothing. 

Dion. If the event o' the journey 

Prove as successful to the queen, — O, be 't so ! — 
As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy. 
The time is worth the use on 't. 

Cleomenes. Great Apollo 

Turn all to the best ! These proclamations. 
So forcing faults upon Hermione, 
I little like. 

Dion. The violent carriage of it 

Will clear or end the business; when the oracle, 
Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up, 
Shall the contents discover, something rare 20 

Even then will rush to knowledge. — Go : fresh horses ! — 
And gracious be the issue ! {Exetmt. 

Scene II. A Cou7't of Justice. 
Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers. 

Leontes. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce. 
Even pushes 'gainst our heart; the party tried 
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one 
Of us too much belov'd.— Let us be clear'd 
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly 
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course. 
Even to the guilt or the purgation. 
Produce the prisoner. 

Officer. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen 
Appear in person here in court. — Silence ! 10 



78 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

Enter Hermione guarded; Paulina and Ladies attending. 

Leontes. Read the indictment. 

Officer. [Reads] ^Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes^ 
king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high 
treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohe- 
mia, and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of 
our sovereign lord the kifig, thy royal husjjand ; the pretence 
whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, thou, Her- 
mione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, 
didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away 
by night. ^ 20 

Hermione. Since what I am to say must be but that 
Which contradicts my accusation, and 
The testimony on my part no other 
But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me 
To say ' not guilty;' mine integrity 
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, 
Be so receiv'd. But thus : if powers divine 
Behold our human actions, as they do, 
I doubt not then but innocence shall make 
False accusation blush and tyranny 3° 

Tremble at patience. — You, my lord, best know, 
Who least will seem to do so, my past life 
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, 
As I am now unhappy; which is more 
Than history can pattern, though devis'd 
And play'd to take spectators. For behold me, 
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe 
A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, 
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing, 
To prate and talk for life and honour fore 40 

Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it 
As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honour, 
'T is a derivative from me to mine. 



ACT III. SCENE 11. 



79 



And only that I stand for. I appeal 

To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes 

Came to your court, how I was in your grace, 

How merited to be so; since he came, 

With what encounter so uncurrent I 

Have strain'd to appear thus : if one jot beyond 

The bound of honour, or in act or will 50 

That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts 

Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin 

Cry fie upon my grave ! 

Leontes. I ne'er heard yet 

That any of these bolder vices wanted 
Less impudence to gainsay what they did 
Than to perform it first. 

Hermione. That 's true enough; 

Though 't is a saying, sir, not due to me. 

Leontes. You will not own it. 

Hermione. More than mistress of 

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not 
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, 60 

With whom I am accus'd, I do confess 
I lov'd him as in honour he requir'd. 
With such a kind of love as might become 
A lady like me, with a love even such. 
So and no other, as yourself commanded ; 
Which not to have done I think had been in me 
Both disobedience and ingratitude 
To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke, 
Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely 
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, 70 

I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd 
For me to try how : all I know of it 
Is that Camillo was an honest man ; 
And why he left your court, the gods themselves, 
Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. 



8q the WINTER'S TALE. 

Leontes. You knew of his departure, as you know 
What you have underta'en to do in 's absence. 

Hermione. Sir, 
You speak a language that I understand not; 
My life stands in the level of your dreams, 80 

Which I' 11 lay down. 

Leontes. Your actions are my dreams ; 

You had a bastard by Polixenes, 

And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame, — 
Those of your fact are so — so past all truth : 
Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as 
Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, 
No father owning it, — which is, indeed, 
More criminal in thee than it, — so thou 
Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage 
Look for no less than death. 

Hermione. Sir, spare your threats; 90 

The bug which you would fright me with I seek. 
To me can life be no commodity: 
The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, 
I do give lost; for I do feel it gone. 
But know not how it went. My second joy 
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence 
I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort, 
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast. 
The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth, 
Hal'd out to murther; myself on every post 100 

Proclaim'd a strumpet; with immodest hatred 
The child-bed privilege denied, which longs 
To women of all fashion ; lastly, hurried 
Here to this place, i' the open air, before 
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, 
Tell me what blessings I have here alive. 
That I should fear to die ? Therefore proceed. 
But yet hear this; mistake me not: for life. 



ACT III. SCENE II. 8 1 

I prize it not a straw; but for mine honour, 

Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd no 

Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else 

But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 

'T is rigour and not law.— Your honours all, 

I do refer me to the oracle ; 

Apollo be my judge ! 

I Lord. This your request 

Is altogether just; therefore bring forth, 
And in Apollo's name, his oracle. \Exeiuit certain Officers. 

Hermione. The Emperor of Russia was my father ; 
O that he were alive, and here beholding 
His daughter's trial ! that he did but see 120 

The flatness of my misery,— yet with eyes 
Of pity, not revenge ! 

Re-enter Officers, with Cleomenes and Dion. 

Officer. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, 
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have 
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought 
This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd 
Of great Apollo's priest, and that since then 
You have not dar'd to break the holy seal 
Nor read the secrets in 't. 

Cleomenes, Dion. All this we swear. 

Leontes. Break up the seals and read. 130 

Officer. [Reads] 'Hermione is chaste; Folixe?ies blameless ; 
Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his in?to- 
cent babe truly begotten ; and the king shall live without an 
heir, tf that which is lost be notfoimd.' 

Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo ! 

Her?nio?ie. Praised ! 

Leontes. Hast thou read truth ? 

Officer. Ay, my lord ; even so 

As it is here set down. 

F 



82 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Leontes. There is no truth at all i' the oracle : 
The sessions shall proceed ; this is mere falsehood. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. My lord the king, the king ! 

Leofites. What is the business? 

Servant. O sir, I shall be hated to report it ! 141 

The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear 
Of the queen's speed, is gone. 

Leontes. How ! gone ! 

Servant. Is dead. 

Leo?ites. Apollo 's angry ; and the heavens themselves 
Do strike at my injustice. — \Hermmie swoons^ How now 
there ! 

Paulina. This news is mortal to the queen ; look down 
And see what death is doing. 

Leontes. Take her hence : 

Her heart is but o'ercharg'd ; she will recover. — 
I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion. — 
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her 150 

Some remedies for life. — 

[Exeimt Paulina and Ladies^ with LLermione. 
Apollo, pardon 
My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle ! 
I '11 reconcile me to Polixenes, 
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo, 
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy; 
For, being transported by my jealousies 
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose 
Camillo for the minister to poison 
My friend Polixenes ; which had been done, 
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied 160 

My swift command, though I with death and with 
Reward did threaten and encourage him, 
Not doing 't and being done. He, most humane 



ACT III. SCENE 11. 83 

And fiird with honour, to my kingly guest 
Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here, 
Which you knew great, and to the hazard 
Of all incertainties himself commended, 
No richer than his honour. — How he glisters 
Thorough my rust ! and how his piety 
Does my deeds make the blacker ! 

Re-enter Paulina. 

Paulina. Woe the while ! 170 

O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, 
Break too. 

I Lord. What fit is this, good lady ? 

Paulina. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me ? 
What wheels? racks.? fires? what flaying? boiling 
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture 
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 
To taste of thy most worst ? Thy tyranny 
Together working with thy jealousies. 
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 
For girls of nine, — O, think what they have done, 180 

And then run mad indeed, stark mad ! for all 
Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it. 
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 't was nothing; 
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 
And damnable ingrateful : nor was 't much, 
Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour. 
To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, 
More monstrous standing by : whereof I reckon 
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter 
To be or none or little ; though a devil 190 

Would have shed water out of fire ere done 't : 
Nor is 't directly laid to thee, the death 
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts, 
Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart 



84 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



That could conceive a gross and foolish sire 

Blemish'd his gracious dam : this is not, no, 

Laid to thy answer: but the last,— O lords. 

When I have said, cry woe ! — the queen, the queen, 

The sweet'st, dear'st creature 's dead, and vengeance for 't 

Not dropp'd down yet. 

I Lord. The higher powers forbid ! 200 

Paulina. I say she 's dead ; I '11 swear 't. If word nor 
oath 
Prevail not, go and see ; if you can bring 
Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye. 
Heat outwardly or breath within, I '11 serve you 
As I would do the gods.— But, O thou tyrant! 
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier 
Than all thy woes can stir ; therefore betake thee 
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees 
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, 
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter 210 

In storm perpetual, could not move the gods 
To look that way thou wert. 

Leontes. Go on, go on ! 

Thou canst not speak too much ; I have deserv'd 

All tongues to talk their bitterest. 

I Lord. Say no more; 

Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault 

I' the boldness of your speech. 

Paulina. I am sorry for 't; 

All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, 

I do repent. Alas ! I have show'd too much 

The rashness of a woman ; he is touch'd 

To the noble heart.— What 's gone and what 's past help 

Should be past grief: do not receive affliction 221 

At my petition ; I beseech you, rather 

Let me be punish'd, that have minded you 

Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, 



ACT III. SCENE III. 85 

Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman ; 

The love I bore your queen — lo, fool again ! — 

I '11 speak of her no more, nor of your children ; 

I '11 not remember you of my own lord, 

Who is lost too : take your patience to you, 

And I '11 say nothing. 

Leoiites. Thou didst speak but well 230 

When most the truth ; which I receive much better 
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me 
To the dead bodies of my queen and son : 
One grave shall be for both ; upon them shall 
The causes of their death appear, unto 
Our shame perpetual. Once a day I '11 visit 
The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there 
Shall be my recreation ; so long as nature 
Will bear up with this exercise, so long 
I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me 240 

Unto these sorrows. \Exeimt. 

Scene III. Bohemia. A Desert Cowitry near the Sea. 
Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner. 

Aiitigomis. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch 'd 
upon 
The deserts of Bohemia? 

Mariner. Ay, my lord, and fear 

We have landed in ill time; the skies look grimly 
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience. 
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry 
And frown upon 's. 

Afitigoniis. Their sacred wills be done ! — Go, get aboard ; 
Look to thy bark : I '11 not be long before 
I call upon thee. 

Mariner. Make your best haste, and go not 10 

Too far i' the land : 't is like to be loud weather j 



86 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Besides, this place is famous for the creatures 
Of prey that keep upon 't. 

Antigoniis. Go thou away ; 

I '11 follow instantly. 

Mariner. I am glad at heart 

To be so rid o' the business. \Exit. 

Antigonus. Come, poor babe : 

I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits o' the dead 
May walk again ; if such thing be, thy mother 
Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream 
So like a waking. To me comes a creature. 
Sometimes her head on one side, some another ; 20 

I never saw a vessel of like sorrow. 
So fiU'd and so becoming : in pure white robes, 
Like very sanctity, she did approach 
My cabin where I lay ; thrice bow'd before me, 
And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes 
Became two spouts. The fury spent, anon 
Did this break from her : ' Good Antigonus, 
Since fate, against thy better disposition. 
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out 
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, 30 

Places remote enough are in Bohemia, 
There weep and leave it crying ; and, for the babe 
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita, 
I prithee, call 't. For this ungentle business. 
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see 
Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks, 
She melted into air. Affrighted much, 
I did in time collect myself and thought 
This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys; 
Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, 40 

I will be squar'd by this. I do believe 
Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that 
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue 



ACT III. SCENE III. 87 

Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, 

Either for life or death, upon the earth 

Of its right father. — Blossom, speed thee well ! 

There lie, and there thy character : there these ; 

Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty, 

And still rest thine. — The storm begins. — Poor wretch, 

That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd 5° 

To loss and what may follow! — Weep I cannot, 

But my heart bleeds ; and most accurs'd am I 

To be by oath enjoin'd to this. — Farewell ! 

The day frowns more and more ; thou 'rt like to have 

A lullaby too rough : I never saw 

The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour ! — 

Well may I get aboard ! — This is the chase ; 

I am gone for ever. \_Exit, pursued by a bear. 

Enter a Shepherd. 
Shepherd. I would there were no age between sixteen 
and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the 
rest; for there is nothing in the between but wronging the 
ancientry, stealing, fighting — Hark you now ! Would any 
but these boiled brains of nineteen and two- and -twenty 
hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my 
best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the 
master ; if any where I have them, 't is by the seaside, 
browsing of ivy. Good luck, an 't be thy will ! what have 
we here ? Mercy on 's, a barne ; a very pretty barne ! A 
boy or a child, I wonder ? A pretty one ; a very pretty 
one. Sure, some scape; though I am not bookish, yet I 
can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. I '11 take it 
up for pity : yet I '11 tarry till my son come ; he hallooed 
but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa ! 73 

Enter Clown. 
Clown. Hilloa, loa ! 



33 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Shepherd. What, art so near ? If thou 'It see a thing to 
talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What 
ailest thou, man? 

Clown. I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land ! 
but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky ; be- 
twixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point. 

Shepherd. Why, boy, how is it ? 8i 

Clown. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, 
how it takes up the shore ! but that 's not to the point. O, 
the most piteous cry of the poor souls ! sometimes to see 
'em, and not to see 'em ; now the ship boring the moon 
with her main-mast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth, 
as you 'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the 
land-service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder- 
bone j how he cried to me for help and said his name was 
Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, 
to see how the sea flap-dragoned it : but, first, how the poor 
souls roared, and the sea mocked them ; and how the poor 
gentleman roared and the bear mocked him, both roaring 
louder than the sea or weather. 94 

Shepherd. Name of mercy, when was this, boy ? 

Clown. Now, now ; I have not winked since I saw these 
sights : the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear 
half dined on the gentleman ; he 's at it now. 

Shepherd. Would I had been by, to have helped the old 
man ! 100 

Clowjt. I would you had been by the ship side, to have 
helped her ; there your charity would have lacked footing. 

Shepherd, Heavy matters ! heavy matters ! but look thee 
here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou mettest with things dy- 
ing, I with things new-born. Here 's a sight for thee ; look 
thee, a bearing -cloth for a squire's child! look thee here; 
take up, take up, boy; open 't. So, let 's see; it was told me 
I should be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling; 
open 't. What 's withm, boy? 



ACT III. SCENE III. 



89 



Cloivn. You 're a made old man; if the sins of your youth 
are forgiven you, you 're well to live. Gold ! all gold ! m 

Shepherd. This is fairy gold, boy, and 't will prove so; up 
with 't, keep it close : home, home, the next way. We are 
lucky, boy; and to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. 
Let my sheep go ; come, good boy, the n.ext way home. 

Clow?i. Go you the next way with your findings. I '11 go 
see if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much 
he hath eaten ; they are never curst but when they are hun- 
gry : if there be any of him left, I '11 bury it. 

Shepherd. That 's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by 
that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to the sight of 
him. 122 

Clown. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' the 
ground. 

Shepherd. 'T is a lucky day, boy, and we '11 do good deeds 
on 't. [Exeunt. 





ACT IV. 

Scene I. 

Enter TiW£,, the Chorus. 

Time. I that please some, try all, both joy and terror 
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error, 
Now take upon me, in the name of Time, 



ACT IV. SCENE L 



91 



To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 

To me or my swift passage, that I slide 

O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried 

Of that wide gap, since it is in my power 

To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour 

To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass 

The same I am, ere ancient'st order was 10 

Or what is now receiv'd : I witness to 

The times that brought them in ; so shall I do 

To the freshest things now reigning, and make stale 

The glistering of this present, as my tale 

Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing, 

I turn my glass and give my scene such growing 

As you had slept between. Leontes leaving, 

The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving 

That he shuts up himself, imagine me, 

Gentle spectators, that I now may be 20 

In fair Bohemia; and remember well, 

I mentioii'd a son o' the king's, which Florizel 

I now name to you; and with speed so pace 

To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace 

Equal with wondering. "V^liat of her ensues 

I list not prophesy; but let Time's news 

Be known when 't is brought forth. A shepherd's daughter. 

And what to her adheres, which follows after, 

Is the argument of Time. Of this allow, 

If ever you have spent time worse ere now; 30 

If never, yet that Time himself doth say 

He wishes earnestly you never may. \Exit. 



^2 THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Scene 11. Bohemia. The Palace of Polixejies. 
Enter Polixenes and Camillo. 

Polixenes. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more import- 
unate : 't is a sickness denying thee any thing ; a death to 
grant this. 

Camillo. It is fifteen years since I saw my country; though 
I have for the most part been aired abroad, I desire to lay my 
bones there. Besides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent 
for me ; to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I 
o'erween to think so, which is another spur to my departure. 

Polixenes. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the 
rest of thy services by leaving me now. The need I have of 
thee thine own goodness hath made ; better not to have had 
thee than thus to want thee. Thou, having made me busi- 
nesses which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must 
either stay to execute them thyself or take away with thee the 
very services thou hast done; which if I have not enough con- 
sidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee 
shall be my study, and my profit therein the heaping friend- 
ships. Of that fatal country, Sicilia, prithee speak no more ; 
whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of 
that penitent, as thou callest him, and reconciled king, my 
brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and children 
are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw- 
est thou the Prince Florizel, my son 1 Kings are no less un- 
happy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing 
them when they have approved their virtues. 25 

Camillo. Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What 
his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown; but I have 
missingly noted, he is of late much retired from court and is 
less frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath 
appeared. 

Polixenes. I have considered so much, Camillo, and with 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



93 



some care ; so far that I have eyes under my service which 
look upon his removedness, from whom I have this intelli- 
gence, that he is seldom from the house of a most homely 
shepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and be- 
yond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an 
unspeakable estate. 

Camillo. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a 
daughter of most rare note; the report of heris extended 
more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. 40 

Polixenes. That 's likewise part of my intelligence, but, I 
fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt ac- 
company us to the place ; where we will, not appearing what 
we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose 
simplicity I think *it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's 
resort thither. Prithee, be my present partner in this busi- 
ness, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. 

Camillo. I willingly obey your command. 

Polixenes. My best Camillo ! We must disguise ourselves. 

\Exeunt. 

Scene III. A Road near the Shepherd's Cottage. 
Enter Autolycus, si?iging. 

When daffodils begin to peer, 

With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, 
Why, then comes in the sweet 0' the year ; 

For the red blood reigns in the ivintei^'s pale. 

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, 

With heigh I the sweet birds, O, how they sing! 

Doth set my plugging tooth on edge ; 
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. 

The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, 

With heigh! with heigh! tlie thrush and the jay, 10 
Are sum?ner songs for me a fid my aimts, 

While we lie tumbling in the hay. 



c,4 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore three- 
pile, but now I am out of service ; 

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? 

The pale moon shines by night ; 
And when I wander here and there, 

I then do most go right. 

If tinkers may have leave to live, 

And bear the soiv-skin budget, 20 

Then my account I well may give, 

And i?t the stocks avouch it. 

My traffic is sheets ; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. 
My father named me Autolycus; who being, as I am, littered 
under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered 
trifles. With die and drab I purchased this caparison, and 
my revenue is the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too 
powerful on the highway; beating and hanging are terrors to 
me : for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it. — A 
prize ! a prize ! 3° 

Enter Clown. 

Clown. Let me see : every 'leven wether tods ; every tod 
yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, — 
what comes the wool to? 

Autolycus. [Aside] If the springe hold, the cock 's mine. 

Clown. I cannot do 't without counters. Let me see ; what 
am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast ? Three pound of 
sugar, five pound of currants, rice, — what will this sister of 
mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mistress 
of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me four-and- 
twenty nosegays for the shearers, three-man songmen all, 
and very good ones ; but they are most of them means and 
bases; but one puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms 
to hornpipes. I must have saffron to colour the warden 
pies ; mace ; dates ? — none, that 's out of my note ; nutmegs. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. ^^ 

seven ; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg ; four 
pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun. 

Autolycus. O that ever I was born ! 

\GroveUing on the groimd. 

Cloimi. r the name of me — 

Autolycus. O, help me, help me ! pluck but off these rags ; 
and then, death, death ! 5° 

Clowfi. Alack, poor soul ! thou hast need of more rags to 
lay on thee, rather than have these off. 

Autolycus. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me 
more than the stripes I have received, which are mighty 
ones and millions. 

Clown. Alas, poor man ! a million of beating may come 
to a great matter. 

Autolycus. I am robbed, sir, and beaten ; my money and 
apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon 
me. 60 

Clown. What, by a horseman, or a footman ? 

Autolycus. A footman, sweet sir, a footman. 

Clown. Indeed, he should be a footman by the garments 
he hast left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath 
seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I '11 help thee; 
come, lend me thy hand. 

Autolycus. O, good sir, tenderly, O ! 

Clown. Alas, poor soul ! 

Autolycus. O, good sir, softly, good sir ! I fear, sir, my 
shoulder-blade is out. 70 

Clown. How now ! canst stand ? 

Autolycus. [Picking his pocket'] Softly, dear sir; good sir, 
softly. You ha' done me a charitable office. 

Clown. Dost lack any money ? I have a little money for 
thee. 

Autolycus. No, good, sweet sir ; no, I beseech you, sir. I 
have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto 
whom I was going ; I shall there have money, or any thing 



^6 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

I want. Offer me no money, I pray you ; that kills my 
heart. 8° 

Clown. What manner of fellow was he that robbed you ? 

Aiitolyais. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about 
with troll-my-dames. I knew him once a servant of the 
prince ; I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, 
but he was certainly whipped out of the court. 

ClowJi. His vices, you would say; there 's no virtue 
whipped out of the court : they cherish it to make it stay 
there-; and yet it will no more but abide. 88 

Autolyciis. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man well : 
he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a 
bailiff; then he compassed a motion of the Prodigal Son, 
and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my larid and 
living lies ; and, having flown over many knavish professions, 
he settled only in rogue ': some call him Autolycus. 

Clown. Out upon him ! prig, for my life, prig; he haunts 
wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. 

Autolycus. Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that 's the rogue that 
put me into this apparel. 

Clown. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if 
you had but looked big and spit at him, he 'd have run. loo 

Autolycus. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter : I 
am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him. 

Clown. How do you now ? 

Autolycus. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand 
and walk. I will even take my leave of you, and pace soft- 
ly towards my kinsman's. 

Clown. Shall I bring thee on the way t 

Autolycus. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir. 

Clown. Then fare thee well ; I must go buy spices for our 
sheep-shearing. no 

Autolycus. Prosper you, sweet sir \^—\Exit Clown.'] Your 
purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I '11 be 
with you at your sheep - shearing too; if I make not this 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 97 

cheat bring out another and the shearers prove sheep, let 
me be unroU'd and my name put in the book of virtue ! 
[Sings] Jog on^ jog on, the foot-path way, 
And merrily hent the stik-a ; 
A 7nerry heart goes all the day, 

Your sad tires in a mile- a. \_Exit. 



Scene IV. The Shepherd's Cottage. 
Enter Florizel and Perdita. 

Florizel. These your unusual weeds to each part of you 
Do give a life ; no shepherdess, but Flora 
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing 
Is as a meeting of the petty gods, 
And you the queen on 't. 

Perdita. Sir, my gracious lord, 

To chide at your extremes it not becomes me ; 
O, pardon, that I name them ! Your high self, 
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscur'd 
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid. 
Most goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts 
In every mess have folly and the feeders 
Digest it with a custom, I should blush 
To see you so attir'd, sworn, I think. 
To show myself a glass. 

Florizel. I bless the time 

When my good falcon made her flight across 
Thy father's ground. 

Perdita. Now Jove afford you cause ! 

To me the difference forges dread; your greatness 
Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble 
To think your father, by some accident, 
Should pass this way as you did. O, the Fates ! 
How would he look, to see his work so noble 
Vilely bound up ? What would he say ? Or how 

G 



gS THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold 
The sternness of his presence ? 

Florizel. Apprehend 

Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, 
Humbling their deities to love, have taken 
The shapes of beasts upon them : Jupiter 
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune 
A ram, and bleated j and the fire-rob'd god, 
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, 30 

As I seem now. Their transformations 
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer. 
Nor in a way so chaste, — since my desires 
Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts 
Burn hotter than my faith. 

Perdita. O, but, sir, 

Your resolution cannot hold, when 't is 
Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power of the king; 
One of these two must be necessities. 

Which then will speak, — that you must change this purpose, 
Or I my life. 

Florizel. Thou dearest Perdita, 4° 

With these forc'd thoughts, I prithee, darken not 
The mirth o' the feast. Or I '11 be thine, my fair, 
Or not my father's. For I cannot be 
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if 
I be not thine. To this I am most constant, 
Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle; 
Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing 
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming; 
Lift up your countenance, as it were the day 
Of celebration of that nuptial which 50 

We two have sworn shall come. 

Perdita. O lady Fortune, 

Stand you auspicious ! 

Florizel. See, your guests approach ; 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. gg 

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, 
And let 's be red with mirth. 

Efiter Shepherd, Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others, with 
PoLiXENES ajid Camillo disguised. 

Shepherd. Fie, daughter ! when my old wife liv'd, upon 
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, 
Both dame and servant; welcom'd all, serv'd all; 
Would sing her song and dance her turn ; now here, 
At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle; 
On his shoulder, and his ; her face o' fire 60 

With labour; and the thing she took to quench it, 
She would to each one sip. You are retir'd. 
As if you were a feasted one, and not 
The hostess of the meeting. Pray you, bid 
These unknown friends to 's welcome; for it is 
A way to make us better friends, more known. 
Come, quench your blushes and present yourself 
That which you are, mistress o' the feast; come on, 
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, 
As your good flock shall prosper, 

Perdita. [To Folixenes\ Sir, welcome ! 70 

It is my father's will I should take on me 
The hostess-ship o' the day. — \To Camillo^ You 're welcome, 

sir. — 
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. — Reverend sirs, 
For you there 's rosemary and rue; these keep 
Seeming and savour all the winter long : 
Grace and remembrance be to you both. 
And welcome to our shearing ! 

Folixenes. Shepherdess, — 

A fair one are you — well you fit our ages 
With flowers of winter. 

Perdita. Sir, the year growing ancient, — 

Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 80 



joo THE WINTER'S TALE, 

Of trembling winter, — the fairest flowers o' the season 

Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, 

Which some call nature's bastards : of that kind 

Our rustic garden 's barren ; and I care not 

To get slips of them. 

PoUxenes. Wherefore, gentle maiden, 

Do you neglect them ? 

Perdita. For I have heard it said 

There is an art which in their piedness shares 

With great creating nature. 

PoUxenes. Say there be ; 

Yet nature is made better by no mean 

But nature makes that mean : so, over that art 

Which you say adds to nature, is an art 

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry 

A gentler scion to the wildest stock. 

And make conceive a bark of baser kind . 

By bud of nobler race. This is an art 

Which does mend nature, — change it rather ; but 

The art itself is nature. 

Perdita. So it is. 

PoUxenes. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, 
And do not call them bastards. 

Perdita. I 'H not put 

The dibble in earth to set one slip of them ; 
No more than were I painted I would wish 
This youth should say 't were well and only therefore 
Desire to breed by me. — Here 's flowers for you : 
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; 
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun 
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers 
Of middle summer, and I think they are given 
To men of middle age. You 're very welcome. 

CamiUo. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, 
And only live by gazing. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. iqi 

Perdita. Out, alas ! no 

You 'd be so lean, that blasts of January 

AVouId blow you through and through. — Now, my fair'st 
friend, 

I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might 

Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, 

That w^ear upon your virgin branches yet 

Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina, 

For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall 

From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, 

That come before the swallow dares, and take 

The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, 120 

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes 

Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, 

That die unmarried, ere they can behold 

Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady 

Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and 

The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, 

The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack, 

To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend. 

To strew him o'er and o'er ! 

Florizel. What, like a corse ? 

Perdita. No, like a bank for love to lie and play on, 130 

Not like a corse; or if, — not to be buried, 

But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers : 

Methinks I play as I have seen them do 

In Whitsun pastorals; sure this robe of mine 

Does change my disposition. 

Florizel. What you do 

/ Still betters w'hat is done. When you speak, sweet, 
! I 'd have you do it ever ; when you sing, 
I I 'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, 
i Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs. 

To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you 140 

A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 



102 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Nothing but that; move still, still so, 

And own no other function. Each your doing, 

So singular in each particular, 

Crowns what you are doing in the present deed, 

That all your acts are queens. 

Perdita. O Doricles, 

Your praises are too large ; but that your youth, 
And the true blood which peeps so fairly through 't, 
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd, 
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 15° 

You woo'd me the false way. 

Florizel. I think you have 

As little skill to fear as I have purpose 
To put you to 't. — But come; our dance, I pray : 
Your hand, my Perdita; so turtles pair, 
That never mean to part. 

Perdita. I 'H swear for 'em. 

Polixenes. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 
Ran on the green-sward; nothing she does or seems 
But smacks of something greater than herself. 
Too noble for this place. 

Camillo. He tells her something 

That makes her blood look out; good sooth, she is 160 

The queen of curds and cream. 

Clown. Come on, strike up ! 

Dorcas. Mopsa must be your mistress; marry, garlic, 
To mend her kissing with ! 

Mopsa. Now, in good time ! 

Clown. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. — 
Come, strike up ! 

\Miisic. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. 

Polixenes. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this 
Which dances with your daughter ? 

Shepherd. They call him Doricles; and boasts himself 
To have a worthy feeding : but I have it 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 103 

Upon his own report and I believe it; 170 

He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter : 

I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon 

Upon the water as he '11 stand and read 

As 't were my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain, 

I think there is not half a kiss to choose 

Who loves another best. 

Polixenes. She dances featly. 

Shepherd. So she does any thing; though I report it, 
That should be silent. If young Doricles 
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that 
Which he not dreams of 180 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. O master, if you did but hear the pedler at the 
door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; 
no, the bagpipe could not move you. He sings several tunes 
faster than you '11 tell money; he utters them as he had eat- 
en ballads and all men's ears grew to his tunes. 

Clown. He could never come better; he shall come in. I 
love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter mer- 
rily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung 
lamentably. 189 

Servant. He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; 
no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves : he has the 
prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is 
strange; with such delicate burthen's of dildos and fadings, 
*jump her and thump her;' and where some stretch-mouthed 
rascal would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap 
into the matter, he makes the maid to answer 'Whoop, do 
me no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with 
'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.' 

Polixenes. This is a brave fellow. 

Clown. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited 
fellow. Has he any unbraided- wares 1 201 



I04 



THE WINTER'S TALE, 



Servant. He hath ribbons of all the colours i' the rainbow; 
points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly 
handle, though they come to him by the gross; inkles, cad- 
disses, cambrics, lawns : why, he sings 'em over as they were 
gods or goddesses ; you would think a smock were a she- 
angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about 
the square on 't. 

Clown. Prithee bring him in ; and let him approach singing. 

Perdita. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words 
in 's tunes. \Exit Servant. 

Clown. You have of these pedlers, that have more in them 
than you 'd think, sister. 213 

Perdita. Ay, good brother, or go about to think. 

Enter Autolycus, singing. 

Lawn as white as driven snow; 

Cyprus black as e'er was crow ; 

Gloves as sweet as da77iask roses; 

Masks for faces and for noses; 

Bugle bracelet^ necklace amber. 

Perfume for a lady's chamber; 220 

Golden quoifs and stomachers, 

For my lads to give their dears ; 

Pi?is and poking-sticks of steel, 

What maids lack from head to heel : 

Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; 

Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry: come buy. 
Clown. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst 
take no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it wnll 
also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves, 

Mopsa. I was promised them against the feast; but they 
come not too late now. 231 

Dorcas. He hath promised you more than that, or there 
be liars. 

Mopsa. He hath paid you all he promised you; may be, 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 



105 



he has paid you more, which will shame you to give him 
again. 

Clowfi. Is there no manners left among maids ? Is there 
not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to 
whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling be- 
fore all our guests? 't is well they are whispering: charm 
your tongues, and not a word more. 241 

Mopsa. I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry- 
lace and a pair of sweet gloves. 

Clown. Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the 
way and lost all my money ? 

Aiitolycics. And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; 
therefore it behoves men to be wary. 

Clown. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here. 

Autolycus. I hope so, sir; for I have about me many par- 
cels of charge. 250 

Clown. What hast here ? ballads ? 

Mopsa. Pray now, buy some; I love a ballad in print o' 
life, for then we are sure they are true. 

Autolycus. Here 's one to a very doleful tune, how a usu- 
rer's wife longed to eat adders' heads and toads carbona- 
doed. 

Mopsa. Is it true, think you ? 

Autolycus. Very true, and but a month old. 

Dorcas. Bless me from marrying a usurer ! 

Mopsa. Pray you now, buy it. 260 

Clown. Come on, lay it by : and let 's first see moe bal- 
lads; we '11 buy the other things anon. 

Autolycus. Here 's another ballad of a fish, that appeared 
upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty 
thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against 
the hard hearts of maids; it was thought she was a woman 
and was turned into a cold fish. The ballad is very pitiful 
and as true. 

Dorcas. Is it true too, think you ? 



io6 



THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Autolycus. Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses more 
than my pack will hold. 271 

Clown. Lay it by too : another. 

Autolycus. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. 

Mopsa. Let 's have some merry ones. 

Autolycus. Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to 
the tune of ' Two maids wooing a man :' there 's scarce a 
maid westward but she sings it ; 't is in request, I can tell 
you. 

Mopsa. We can both sing it : if thou 'It bear a part, thou 
shalt hear; 't is in three parts. 280 

Dorcas. We had the tune on 't a month ago. 

Autolycus. I can bear my part ; you must know 't is my 
occupation. Have at it with you. 

Song. 

Autolycus. Get you hence, for I must go 
Where it fits Jiot you to know. 

Dorcas. Whither "i 

Mopsa. O^ whither 1 

Dorcas. Whither"^ 

Mopsa. // becomes thy oath full well^ 

Thou to me thy secrets tell. 290 

Dorcas. Me too, let me go thither. 

Mopsa. Or thou goest to the gj^ange or mill. 

Dorcas. If to either, thou dost ill. 

Autolycus. Neither. 

Dorcas. What, neither 1 

Autolycus. Neither. 

Dorcas. Thou hast sworn my love to be. 

Mopsa. Thou hast sworn it more to me : 

Then whither goest ? say, whither ? 

Clown. We '11 have this song out anon by ourselves ; my 
father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we '11 not 
trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after me. — 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 107 

Wenches, I '11 buy for you both.— Pedler, let 's have the first 

choice.— Follow me, girls. \Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa. 

Aiitolyais. And you shall pay well for 'em. 305 

[Follows singing. 
Will y oil buy any tape, 
Or lace for your cape, 
My dainty duck, my d-ear-a .? 
Any silk, any thread. 

Any toys for your head, 310 

Of the new' St and fin'st,ftn'st wear-a? 
Come to the pedler ; 
Money 's a meddler, 
That doth utter all 7nen's ware-a. [Exit. 

Re-enter Servant. 

Servant. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, 
three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made them- 
selves all men of hair, they call themselves Saltiers, and 
they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry 
of gambols, because they are not in 't; but they themselves 
are o' the mind, if it be not too rough for some that know 
little but bowling, it will please plentifully. 321 

Shepherd. Away ! we '11 none on 't ; here has been too 
much homely foolery already.— I know, sir, we weary you. 

Polixenes. You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let 's 
see these four threes of herdsmen. 

Servant. One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath 
danced before the king ; and not the worst of the three but 
jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire. 

Shepherd. Leave your prating : since these good men are 
pleased, let them come in ; but quickly now. 330 

Servant. Why, they stay at door, sir. \Exit. 

Here a dance of twelve Satyrs. 

Polixenes. O, father, you '11 know more of that hereafter.— 
\To Camillo^ Is it not too far gone ?— 'T is time to part them. 



io8 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

He 's simple- and tells much. — \To FlorizeP^ How now, fair 

shepherd ! 
Your heart is full of something that does take 
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young 
And handed love as you do, I was wont 
To load my she with knacks. I would have ransack'd 
The pedler's silken treasury and have pour'd it 
To her acceptance j you have let him go 340 

And nothing marted with him. If your lass 
Interpretation should abuse and call this 
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited 
For a reply, at least if you make a care 
Of happy holding her. 

Floi'izel. Old sir, I know 

She prizes not such trifles as these are : 
The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd 
Up in my heart; which I have given already. 
But not deliver'd. — O, hear me breathe my life 
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, 350 

Hath sometime lov'd ! I take thy hand, this hand, 
As soft as dove's down and as white as it, 
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that 's bolted 
By the northern blasts twice o'er. 

PoHxeites. ' What follows this ? — 

How prettily the young swain seems to wash 
The hand was fair before ! — I have put you out : 
But to your protestation; let me hear 
What you profess. 

Florizel. Do, and be witness to 't. 

Folixenes. And this my neighbour too ? 

Florizel. And he, and more 

Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all : 360 

That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, 
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth 
That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 109 

More than was ever man's, I would not prize them 
Without her love ; for her employ them all, 
Commend them and condemn them to her service 
Or to their own perdition. 

Polixe?ies. Fairly offer'd. 

Cai7iillo. This shows a sound affection. 

Shepherd. But, my daughter, 

Say you the like to him ? 

Ferdita. I cannot speak 

So well, nothing so well ; no, nor mean better : 370 

By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out 
The purity of his. 

Shepherd. Take hands, a bargain ! — 

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't ; 
I give my daughter to him, and will make 
Her portion equal his. 

Florizel. O, that must be 

I' the virtue of your daughter : one being dead, 
I shall have more than you can dream of yet; 
Enough then for your wonder. But, come on. 
Contract us fore these witnesses. 

Shepherd. Come, your hand ; 

And, daughter, yours. 

FoUxenes. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you ; 380 

Have you a father ? 

Florizel. I have ; but what of him ? 

Folixenes. Knows he of this .'* 

Florizel. He neither does nor shall. 

Folixejies. Methinks a father 
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest 
That best becomes the table. Pray you once more, 
Is not your father grown incapable 
Of reasonable affairs ? is he not stupid 
With age and altering rheums ? can he speak ? hear .'* 
Know man from man ? dispute his own estate ? 



no THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Lies he not bed-rid ? and again does nothing 390 

But what he did being childish ? 

Florizel. No, good sir ; 

He has his health and ampler strength indeed 
Than most have of his age. 

Polixenes, By my white beard, 

You offer him, if this be so, a wrong- 
Something unfilial. Reason my son 
Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason 
The father, all whose joy is nothing else 
But fair posterity, should hold some counsel 
In such a business. 

Florizel. I yield all this; 

But for some other reasons, my grave sir, 400 

Which 't is not fit you know, I not acquaint 
My father of this business. 

Polixefies. Let him know 't. 

Florizel. He shall not. 

Polixenes. Prithee, let him. 

Florizel. No, he must not. 

Shepherd. Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve 
At knowing of thy choice. 

Florizel. Come, come, he must not. — 

Mark our contract. 

Folixe?ies. Mark your divorce, young sir, 

^Discovering himself. 
Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base 
To be acknowledg'd, thou a sceptre's heir, 
That thus affects a sheep-hook ! — Thou old traitor, 
I am sorry that by hanging thee I can 4,10 

But shorten thy life one week. — And thou, fresh piece 
Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know 
The royal fool thou cop'st with, — 

Shepherd. O, my heart ! 

Polixenes. I '11 have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. Ill 

More homely than thy state. — For thee, fond boy, 

If I may ever know thou dost but sigh 

That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never 

I mean thou shalt, we '11 bar thee from succession ; 

Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin. 

Far than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words : 420 

Follow us to the court. — Thou churl, for this time. 

Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee 

From the dead blow of it. — And you, enchantment, — ■ 

Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too, 

That makes himself, but for our honour therein, 

Unworthy thee, — if ever henceforth thou 

These rural latches to his entrance open, 

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, 

I will devise a death as cruel for thee 

As thou art tender to 't. \_Exit. 

Perdita. Even here undone ! 430 

I was not much afeard; for once or twice 
I was about to speak and tell him plainly. 
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but 
Looks on alike. — Will 't please you, sir, be gone ? 
I told you what would come of this. Beseech you. 
Of your own state take care; this dream of mine, — ^ 
Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther. 
But milk my ewes and weep. 

Camillo. Why, how now, father ? 

Speak ere thou diest. 

Shepherd. I cannot speak, nor think, 440 

Nor dare to know that which I know. — O sir ! 
You have undone a man of fourscore three, 
That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea. 
To die upon the bed my father died. 
To lie close by his honest bones; but now 
Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me 



112 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Where no priest shovels in dust. — O cursed wretch, 
That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure 
To mingle faith with him ! — Undone ! undone ! 
If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd 4so 

To die when I desire. \_Exit. 

Florizel. Why look you so upon me ? 

I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd. 
But nothing alter'd. What I was, I am; 
More straining on for plucking back, not following 
My leash unwillingly. 

Camillo. Gracious my lord, 

You know your father's temper : at this time 
He will allow no speech, which I do guess 
You do not purpose to him ; and as hardly 
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear. 
Then, till the fury of his highness settle, 460 

Come not before him. 

Florizel. I not purpose it. 

I think,— Camillo ? 

Camillo. Even he, my lord. 

Perdiia. How often have I told you 't would be thus ! 
How often said, my dignity would last 
But till 't were known 1 

Florizel. It cannot fail but by 

The violation of my faith ; and then 
Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together 
And mar the seeds within ! Lift up thy looks : 
From my succession wipe me, father; I 
Am heir to my affection. 

Camillo. Be advis'd. ' 470 

Florizel. I am, and by my fancy: if my reason 
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; 
If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness, 
Do bid it welcome. 

Camillo. This is desperate, sir. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 1 13 

Florizel. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow: 
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, 
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may 
Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or 
The close earth wombs or the profound sea hides 
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath 480 

To this my fair belov'd : therefore, I pray you, 
As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend, 
When he shall miss me, — as, in faith, I mean not 
To see him any more, — cast your good counsels 
Upon his passion; let myself and fortune 
Tug for the time to come. This you may know 
And so deliver, — I am put to sea 
With her whom here I cannot hold on shore; 
And most opportune to our need I have 
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepar'd 49° 

For this design. What course I mean to hold 
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor 
Concern me the reporting, 

Camillo. O my lord ! 

I would your spirit were easier for advice, 
Or stronger for your need. 

Florizel. Hark, Perdita. — \Drawing her aside. 

I '11 hear you by and by. 

Camillo. He 's irremovable, 

Resolv'd for flight. Now were I happy, if 
His going I could frame to serve my turn. 
Save him from danger, do him love and honour, 
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia 5°° 

And that unhappy king, my master, whom 
I so much thirst to see. 

Florizel. Now, good Camillo; 

I am so fraught with curious business that 
I leave out ceremony. 

Camillo. Sir, I think 

H 



114 '^^^ WINTER'S TALE. 

You have heard of my poor services, i' the love 
That I have borne your father? 

Florizel. Very nobly 

Have you deserv'd ; it is my father's music 
To speak your deeds, not little of his care 
To have them recompens'd as thought on. 

Camillo. Well, my lord. 

If you may please to think I love the king 510 

And through him what is nearest to him, which is 
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction : 
If your more ponderous and settled project 
May suffer alteration, on mine honour, 
I '11 point you where you shall have such receiving 
As shall become your highness; where you may 
Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see, 
There 's no disjunction to be made, but by — 
As heavens forefend ! — your ruin; marry her, 
And, with my best endeavours in your absence, 520 

Your discontenting father strive to qualify 
And bring him up to liking. 

Florizel. How, Camillo, 

May this, almost a miracle, be done ? 
That I may call thee something more than man, 
And after that trust to thee. 

Camillo. Have you thought on 

A place whereto you '11 go ? 

Florizel. Not any yet; 

But as the unthought-on accident is guilty 
To what we wildly do, so we profess 
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies 
Of every wind that blows. 

Camillo. Then list to me : 530 

This follows, if you will not change your purpose 
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia, 
And there present yourself and your fair princess, 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 115 

For so I see she must be, fore Leontes; 

She shall be habited as it becomes 

The partner of your bed. Methinks I see 

Leontes opening his free arms and weeping 

His welcomes forth ; asks thee the son forgiveness, 

As 't were i' the father's person ; kisses the hands 

Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him 540 

'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness ; the one 

He chides to hell, and bids the other grow 

Faster than thought or time. 

Florizel. Worthy Camillo, 

What colour for my visitation shall I 
Hold up before him ? 

Camillo. Sent by the king your father 

To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir, 
The manner of your bearing towards him, with 
What you as from your father shall deliver, 
Things known betwixt us three, I '11 write you down : 
The which shall point you forth at every sitting 550 

What you must say; that'he shall not perceive 
But that you have your father's bosom there 
And speak his very heart. 

Florizel. I am bound to you ; 

There is some sap in this. 

Camillo. A cause more promising 

Than a wild dedication of yourselves 
To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain 
To miseries enough ; no hope to help you. 
But as you shake ofif one to take another; 
Nothing so certain as your anchors, who 
Do their best office, if they can but stay you 560 

Where you '11 be loath to be. Besides you know 
Prosperity 's the very bond of love. 
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together 
Affliction alters. 



Il6 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

Perdita. One of these is true 

\ think affliction may subdue the cheek, 
But not take in the mind. 

Camillo. Yea, say you so ? 

There shall not at your father's house these seven years 
Be born another such. 

Florizel. My good Camillo, 

She is as forward of her breeding as 
She is i' the rear o' our birth. 

Camillo. I cannot say 't is pity 570 

She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress 
To most that teach. 

Perdita. Your pardon, sir; for this 

I '11 blush you thanks. 

Florizel. My prettiest Perdita ! — 

But O, the thorns we stand upon ! — Camillo, 
Preserver of my father, now of me, 
The medicine of our house, how shall we do? 
We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son, 
Nor shall appear in Sicilia. 

Camillo. My lord. 

Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes 
Do all lie there; it shall be so my care 580 

To have you royally appointed as if 
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, 
That you may know you shall not want, — one word. 

\They talk aside. 
Re-enter Autolycus. 

Autolycus. Ha, ha ! w^hat a fool Honesty is ! and Trust, his 
sworn brother, a very simple gentleman ! I have sold all 
my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, 
pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe- 
tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting. They 
throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hal- 
lowed and brought a benediction to the buyer : by which 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. ny 

iTieans I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I 
saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown, who wants 
but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in love with 
the wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes till he 
had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the herd 
to me that all their other senses stuck in ears. I could have 
filed keys off that hung in chains; no hearing, no feeling, but 
my sir's song, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in 
this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival 
purses; and had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub 
against his daughter and' the king's son and scared my 
choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the 
whole army. [Cajniilo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward. 

Camilla. Nay, but my letters, by this means being there 
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. 605 

Florizel. And those that you '11 procure from KingLeontes— 
Camillo. Shall satisfy your father. 
Perdita. Happy be you ! 

All that you speak shows fair. 

Camillo. Who have we here ?— 

^Seeing Aiitolyciis. 
We '11 make an instrument of this, omit 
Nothing may give us aid. 

Autolyciis. If they have overheard me now, why, hangitig. 
Camillo. How now, good fellow ! why shakest thou so ? 
Fear not, man ; here 's no harm intended to thee. 613 

Autolyciis. I am a poor fellow, sir. 

Camillo. Why, be so still ; here 's nobody will steal that 
from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make 
an exchange; therefore disease thee instantly,— thou must 
think there 's a necessity in 't,— and change garments with 
this gentleman. Though the pennyworth on his side be 
the worst, yet hold thee, there 's some boot. 

Autolyciis. I am a poor fellow, sir.— [^^/^^] I know ye 



well enough. 



1 1 8- THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Camillo. Nay, prithee, dispatch ; the gentleman is half 
flayed already. 

Autolycus. Are you in earnest, s\xl—\ Aside] I smell the 
trick on 't. 

Florizel. Dispatch, I prithee. 

Autolycus. Indeed, I have had earnest ; but I cannot with 
conscience take it. 

Camillo. Unbuckle, unbuckle. — 630 

\Flonzel and Autolycus exchange garments. 
Fortunate mistress, — let my prophecy 
Come home to ye ! — you must retire yourself 
Into some covert : take your sweetheart's hat 
And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face, 
Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken 
The truth of your own seeming ; that you may — 
For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard 
Get undescried. 

Perdita. I see the play so lies 

That I must bear a part. 

Camillo. No remedy. — 

Have you done there ? 

Florizel. Should I now meet my father, 640 

He would not call me son. 

Camillo. Nay, you shall have no hat. — 

[^Giving it to Perdita. 
Come, lady, come. — Farewell, my friend. 

Autolycus. Adieu, sir. 

Florizel. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot ! 
Pray you, a word. 

Camillo. {Aside] What I do next, shall be to tell the king 
Of this escape and whither they are bound : 
Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail 
To force him after ; in whose company 
I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight 
I have a woman's longing. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 



119 



Florizel. Fortune speed us ! — 650 

Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side. 

Camillo. The swifter speed the better. 

\Exeunt Florizel, Fe?'dita, and Ciwiillo. 

Autolycus. I understand the business, I hear it. To have 
an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary 
for a cut-purse ; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out 
work for the other senses. I see this is the time that the 
unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been 
without boot ! What a boot is here with this exchange ! 
Sure the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do 
any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece 
of iniquity, stealing away from his father with his clog at his 
heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint 
the king withal, I would not do 't : I hold it the more 
knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my 
profession. — 665 

Re-enter Clown and Shepherd. 
Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain. Every 
lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a 
careful man work. 

Clown. See, see ; what a man you are now ! There is no 
other way but to tell the king she 's a changeling and none 
of your flesh and blood. 671 

Shepherd. Nay, but hear me. 

Clown. Nay, but hear me. 

Shepherd. Go to, then. 

Clown. She being none of your flesh and blood, your 
flesh and blood has not offended the king; and so your 
flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those 
things you found about her, those secret things, all but what 
she has with her. This being done, let the law go whistle ; 
I warrant you. 680 

Shepherd. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his 
son's pranks too ; who, I may say, is no honest man, neither 



I20 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

to his father nor to me, to go about to make me the king's 
brother-in-law. 

Clown. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you 
could have been to him, and then your blood had been the 
dearer by I know how much an ounce. 

Autolyciis. \Aside\ Very wisely, puppies ! 

Shepherd. Well, let us to the king; there is that in this 
fardel will make him scratch his beard. 690 

Autolycus. [Aside] I know not what impediment this com- 
plaint may be to the flight of my master. 

Clown. Pray heartily he be at palace. 

Autolycus. {Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I 
am so sometimes by chance ; let me pocket up my pedler's 
excrement. — \Takes off his false beard.] How now, rustics ! 
whither are you bound ? 

Shepherd. To the palace, an it like your worship. 

Autolycus. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condi- 
tion of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, 
your ages, of what having, breeding, and any thing that is 
fitting to be known, discover. 702 

Clown. We are but plain fellows, sir. 

Autolycus. A lie ! you are rough and hairy. Let me 
have no lying ; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they 
often give us soldiers the lie : but we pay them for it with 
stamped coin, not stabbing steel ; therefore they do not 
give us the lie. 

Clown. Your worship had like to have given us one, if 
you had not taken yourself with the manner. 710 

Shepherd. Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir? 

Autolycus. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. 
Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? 
hath not my gait in it the measure of the court ? receives 
not thy nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy 
baseness court-contempt ? Thinkest thou, for that I insin- 
uate, or touze from thee thy business, I am therefore no 



ACT IK SCENE IV. 121 

courtier ? I am courtier cap-a-pe ; and one that will either 
push on or pluck back thy business there : whereupon I 
command thee to open thy affair. 720 

Shepherd. My business, sir, is to the king. 

Aiitolyciis. What advocate hast thou to him ? 

Shepherd. I know not, an 't like you. 

Clown. Advocate 's the court-word for a pheasant ; say 
you have none. 

Shepherd. None, sir ; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. 

Autolyciis. How blest are we that are not simple men ! 
Yet nature might have made me as these are, 
Therefore I will not disdain. 

Clown. This cannot be but a great courtier. 73° 

Shepherd. His garments are rich, but he wears them not 
handsomely. 

Cloivn. He seems to be the more noble in being fantasti- 
cal : a great man, I '11 warrant; I know by the picking on 's 
teeth. 

Aiitolycus. The fardel there? what 's i' the fardel.? Where- 
fore that box ? 

Shepherd. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and 
box, which none must know but the king; and which he 
shall know within this hour, if I may come to the speech of 
him. 741 

Autolyciis. Age, thou hast lost thy labour. 

Shepherd. Why, sir.? 

Autolyciis. The king is not at the palace ; he is gone 
aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: 
for, if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must know 
the king is full of grief 

Shepherd. So 't is said, sir ; about his son, that should 
have married a shepherd's daughter. 

Aiitolycus. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him 
fly ; the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will 
break the back of man, the heart of monster. 752 



122 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Clown. Think you so, sir ? 

Autolyciis. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make 
heavy and vengeance bitter, but those that are germane to 
him, though removed fifty times, shall all come under the 
hangman; which though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. 
An old sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have 
his daughter come into grace ! Some say he shall be stoned; 
but that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne 
into a sheep-cote ! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too 
easy. 762 

Clown. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an 't 
like you. sir t 

Autolycus. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive ; then 
'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest ; 
then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead ; then 
recovered again with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; 
then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication 
proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the sun look- 
ing with a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold 
him with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these 
traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at, their 
offences being so capital ? Tell me, for you seem to be 
honest plain men, what you have to the king : being some- 
thing gently considered, I '11 bring you where he is aboard, 
tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your 
behalfs; and if it be in man besides the king to effect your 
suits, here is man shall do it. 779 

Cloimi. He seems to be of great authority : close with 
him, give him gold ; and though authority be a stubborn 
bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold. Show the in- 
side of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more 
ado. Remember, stoned and flayed alive ! 

Shephe7'd. An 't please you, sir, to undertake the business 
for us, here is that gold I have ; I '11 make it as much more, 
and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 123 

Aiitolycus. After I have done what I promised ? 

Shepherd. Ay, sir. 

Autolycus. Well, give me the moiety. — Are you a party in 
this business ? 791 

Clown. In some sort, sir ; but though my case be a pitiful 
one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it. 

Autolycus. O, that 's the case of the shepherd's son ; hang 
him, he '11 be made an example. 

Clown. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king 
and show our strange sights : he must know 't is none of 
your daughter nor my sister ; we are gone else. — Sir, I will 
give you as much as this old man does when the business 
is performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be 
brought you. 801 

. Autolycus. I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea- 
side ; go on the right hand : I will but look upon the hedge 
and follow you. 

Clown. We are blest in this man, as I may say, even 
blest. 

Shepherd. Let 's before, as he bids us ; he was provided to 
do us good. \Exeu7it Shepherd and Clown. 

Autolycus. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune 
would not suffer me ; she drops booties in my mouth. I 
am courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means 
to do the prince my master good ; which who knows how 
that may turn back to my advancement ? I will bring 
these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him : if he think 
it lit to shore them again, and that the complaint they have 
to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for 
being so far officious; for I am proof against that title and 
what shame else belongs to 't. To him will I present them ; 
there may be matter in it. \Exit. 




O, she 's warm! (v. 3. 109). 

ACT V. 

Scene I. A Room in the Palace of Leontes. 

Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and Servants. 

Cleomenes. Sir, you have done, enough, and have per- 
form 'd 
A saint-like sorrow. No fault could you make, 
Which you have not redeem'd j indeed, paid down 



ACT V. SCENE I. 125 

More penitence than done trespass. At the last, 
Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil ; 
With them forgive yourself. 

Leonies. Whilst I remember 

Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
My blemishes in them, and so still think of 
The wrong I did myself; which was so much 
That heirless it hath made my kingdom, and 10 

Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man 
Bred his hopes out of. 

Paulina. True, too true, my lord ; 

If, one by one, you wedded all the world, 
Or from the all that are took something good, 
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd 
Would be unparallel'd. 

Leontes. I think so. Kill'd ! 

She I kill'd ! I did so : but thou strikest me 
Sorely, to say I did ; it is as bitter 
Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now, 
Say so but seldom. 

Cleome7tes. Not at all, good lady ; 20 

You might have spoken a thousand things that would 
Have done the time more benefit and grac'd 
Your kindness better. 

Paulina. You are one of those 

Would have him wed again. 

DioJi. If you would not so, 

You pity not the state, nor the remembrance 
Of his most sovereign name ; consider little 
What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue, 
May drop upon his kingdom and devour 
Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy 
Than to rejoice the former queen is well ? 3° 

What holier than, for royalty's repair. 
For present comfort and for future good. 



126 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

To bless the bed of majesty again 
With a sweet fellow to 't ? 

Faulina. There is none worthy, 

Respecting her that 's gone. Besides, the gods 
Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes ; 
For has not the divine Apollo said, 
Is 't not the tenour of his oracle. 
That King Leontes shall not have an heir 
Till his lost child be found ? which that it shall, 40 

Is all as monstrous to our human reason 
As my Antigonus to break his grave 
And come again to me ; who, on my life. 
Did perish with the infant. 'T is your counsel 
My lord should to the heavens be contrary, 
Oppose against their wills. — ^To Leontes^ Care not for 

issue; 
The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander 
Left his to the worthiest ; so his successor 
Was like to be the best. 

Leo7ttes. Good Paulina, — 

Who hast the memory of Hermione, 50 

I know, in honour, — O that ever I 
Had squar'd me to thy counsel ! then, even now, 
I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, 
Have taken treasure from her lips— 

Faulina. And left them 

More rich for what they yielded. 

Leontes. Thou speak'st truth. 

No more such wives ; therefore, no wife : one worse. 
And better us'd, would make her sainted spirit 
Again possess her corpse, and on this stage, 
Where we offenders now, appear soul-vex'd, 
And begin, ' Why to me ?' 

Paulina. Had she such power, 60 

She had just cause. 



ACT F. SCENE I. 127 

Leonfes. She had; and would incense me 

To murther her I married. 

FauUna. I should so. 

Were I the ghost that walk'd, I 'd bid you mark 
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't 
You chose her; then I'd shriek, that even your ears 
Should rift to hear me ; and the words that follow'd 
Should be 'Remember mine.' 

Leontes. Stars, stars, 

And all eyes else dead coals ! — Fear thou no wife ; 
I '11 have no wife, Paulina. 

Paulina. Will you swear 

Never to marry but by my free leave ? 70 

Leontes. Never, Paulina ! so be blest my spirit ! 

Pauli7ia. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath. 

Cleomenes. You tempt him over-much. 

Paulina. Unless another, 

As like Hermione as is her picture. 
Affront his eye. 

Cleomenes. Good madam, — 

Paulina. I have done. 

Yet, if my lord will marry, — if you will, sir, 
No remedy, but you will, — give me the office 
To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young 
As was your former ; but she shall be such 
As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy so 

To see her in your arms. 

Leontes. My true Paulina, 

We shall not marry till thou bid'st us. 

Pauli7ia. That 

Shall be when your first queen 's again in breath; 
Never till then. 

Enter a Gentleman. 
Gentleman. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel, 



128 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Son of Polixenes, with his princess, — she 
The fairest I have yet beheld, — desires access 
To your high presence. 

Leontes. What with him ? he comes not 

Like to his father's greatness ; his approach, 
So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us 
'T is not a visitation fram'd, but forc'd 
By need and accident. What train ? 

Ge7itleman. But few, 

And those but mean. 

Leontes. His princess, say you, with him "i 

Gentleman. Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think, 
That e'er the sun shone bright on. 

Paulina. O Hermione, 

As every present time doth boast itself 
Above a better gone, so must thy grave 
Give way to what 's seen now ! — Sir, you yourself 
Have said and writ so, but your writing now 
Is colder than that theme, ' She had not been, i, 

Nor was not to be equall'd ;' — thus your verse 
Flow'd with her beauty once : 't is shrewdly ebb'd, 
To say you have seen a better. 

Gentleman. Pardon, madam : 

The one I have almost forgot, — your pardon, — 
The other, when she has obtain'd your eye. 
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature. 
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal 
Of all professors else, make proselytes 
Of who she but bid follow. 

Paulina. How ! not women ? 

Gentleman. Women will love her, that she is a woman 
More worth than any man; men, that she is i 

The rarest of all women. 

Leontes. Go, Cleomenes ; 

Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 129 

Bring them to our embracement. — Still, 't is strange 

[Exeunt Ckomenes and others. 
He thus should steal upon us. 

Paulina. Had our prince, 

Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd 
Well with this lord ; there was not full a month 
Between their births. 

Leontes. Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st 

He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure. 
When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches 120 

Will bring me to consider that which may 
Unfurnish me of reason. — They are come. — 

Re-enter Cleomenes and others, with Florizel and Perdita. 

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince; 

For she did print your royal father off, 

Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one, 

Your father's image is so hit in you. 

His very air, that I should call you brother, 

As I did him, and speak of something wildly 

By us perform 'd before. Most dearly welcome ! 

And your fair princess, — goddess ! — O, alas ! 130 

I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth 

Might thus have stood begetting wonder as 

You, gracious couple, do; and then I lost — 

All mine own folly — the society, 

Amity too, of your brave father, whom, 

Though bearing misery, I desire my life 

Once more to look on him. 

Florizel. By his command 

Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him 
Give you all greetings that a king, at friend, 
Can send his brother : and, but infirmity 140 

Which waits upon worn times hath something seiz'd 
His wish'd ability, he had himself 

I 



130 THE WINTER'S TALE, 

The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his 
Measur'd to look upon you; whom he loves — 
He bade me say so — more than all the sceptres 
And those that bear them living. 

Leontes. O my brother, 

Good gentleman ! the wrongs I have done thee stir 
Afresh within me, and these thy offices, 
So rarely kind, are as interpreters 

Of my behind-hand slackness. — Welcome hither, 150 

As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too 
Expos'd this paragon to the fearful usage, 
At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune, 
To greet a man not worth her pains, much less , 

The adventure of her person ? 

Florizel. Good my lord, 

She came from Libya. 

Leontes. Where the warlike Smalus, 

That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and lov'd ? 

Florizel. Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose 
daughter 
His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her : thence, 
A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd, 160 

To execute the charge my father gave me 
For visiting your highness. My best train 
I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd ; 
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify 
Not only my success in Libya, sir, 
But my arrival and my wife's in safety 
Here where we are. 

Leontes. The blessed gods 

Purge all infection from our air whilst you 
Do climate here ! You have a holy father, 
A graceful gentleman ; against whose person, 17° 

So sacred as it is, I have done sin : 
For which the heavens, taking angry note. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 131 

Have left me issueless; and your father 's blest, 
As he from heaven merits it, with you 
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been, 
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on. 
Such goodly things as you ! 

Enter a Lord. 

Lord. Most noble sir. 

That which I shall report will bear no credit. 
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir, 
Bohemia greets you from himself by me; »8o 

Desires you to attach his son, who has — 
His dignity and duty both cast off — 
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and w^ith 
A shepherd's daughter. 

Leontes. Where 's Bohemia.? speak. 

Lord. Here in your city; I now came from him. 
I speak amazedly; and it becomes 
My marvel and my message. To your court 
Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems, 
Of this fair couple, meets he on the way 
The father of this seeming lady and 190 

Her brother, having both their country quitted 
With this young prince. 

Florizel. Camillo has betray'd me; 

Whose honour and whose honesty till now 
Endur'd all weathers. 

Lord. Lay 't so to his charge ; 

He 's with the king your father. 

L^eontes. Who? Camillo.? 

Lord. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now 
Has these poor men in question. Never saw I 
Wretches so quake; they kneel, they kiss the earth. 
Forswear themselves as often as they speak : 
Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them 
With divers deaths in death. 200 



132 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Perdita. O my poor father ! — 

The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have 
Our contract celebrated. 

Leontes. You are married ? 

Florizel. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be; 
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first : 
The odds for high and low 's alike. 

Leontes. ■ My lord, 

Is this the daughter of a king ? 

Florizel. She is, 

When once she is my wife. 

Leontes. That once, I see by your good father's speed, 
Will come on very slowly. I am sorry, 210 

Most sorry, you have broken from his liking 
Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry 
Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty, 
That you might well enjoy her. 

Florizel. Dear, lookup; 

Though Fortune, visible an enemy, 
Should chase us with my father, power no jot 
Hath she to change our loves. — Beseech you, sir. 
Remember since you owed no more to time 
Than I do now: with thought of such affections. 
Step forth mine advocate ; at your request 220 

My father will grant precious things as trifles. 

Leontes. Would he do so, I 'd beg your precious mistress, 
Which he counts but a trifle. 

Paulina. Sir, my liege. 

Your eye hath too much youth in 't; not a month 
Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes 
Than what you look on now. 

Leontes. I thought of her, 

Even in these looks I made. — \To Florizel'] But your peti- 
tion 
Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your fiither. 



ACT V. SCENE II. i^^ 

Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires, 

I am friend to them and you : upon which errand 230 

I now go toward him ; therefore follow me 

And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord. 

\_Exeimt. 
Scene II. Before the Palace of Leontes. 
Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman. 

Aiitolycus. Beseech you, sir, were you present at this rela- 
tion ? 

I Gentleman. I was by at the opening of the fardel, 
heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found 
it: whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all com- 
manded out of the chamber ; only this methought I heard 
the shepherd say, he found the child. 

Autolycus. I would most gladly know the issue of it. 8 

1 GeJitleman.. I make a broken delivery of the business ; 
but the changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were 
very notes of admiration. They seemed almost, with star- 
ing on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes ; there 
was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gest- 
ure ; they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, 
or one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder appeared 
in them ; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but 
seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow ; 
but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be. — 

Enter another Gentleman. 
Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more. — The 
news, Rogero ? 20 

2 Gentleman. Nothing but bonfires. The oracle is ful- 
filled ; the king's daughter is found. Such a deal of won- 
der is broken out within this hour that ballad-makers can- 
not be able to express it. 



134 THE WINTER'S TALE. 



Enter a third Gentleman. 



Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver 
you more. — How goes it now, sir ? this news which is called 
true is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong 
suspicion. Has the king found his heir ? 28 

3 Gentleman. Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by 
circumstance ; that which you hear you '11 swear you see, 
there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen 
Hermione's, her jewel about the neck of it, the letters of 
Antigonus found with it which they know to be his charac- 
ter, the majesty of the creature in resemblance of the moth- 
er, the affection of nobleness which nature shows above her 
breeding, and many other evidences proclaim her with all 
certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meet- 
ing of the two kings ? 

2 Gentleman. No. 39 

3 Gentleman. Then have you lost a sight, which was to 
be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have be- 
held one joy crown another, so and in such manner that it 
seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their joy 
waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up 
of hands, with countenances of such distraction that they 
were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, 
being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found 
daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries ' O, 
thy mother, thy mother !' then asks Bohemia forgiveness ; 
then embraces his son-in-law ; then again worries he his 
daughter with clipping her ; now he thanks the old shep- 
herd, which stands by like a weather -bitten conduit of 
many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another en- 
counter, which lames report to follow it and undoes de- 
scription to do it. 55 

2 Gentkfnan. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that 
carried hence the child ? 



ACT V. SCENE II. 135 

3 Gentk?7ian. Like an old tale still, which will have 
matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear 
open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches 
the shepherd's son ; who has not only his innocence, which 
seems much, to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings 
of his that Paulina knows. 

I Gejitleman. What became of his bark and his fol- 
lowers ? 65 

3 Gentleman. Wracked the same instant of their master's 
death, and in the view of the shepherd; so that all the in- 
struments which aided to expose the child were even then 
lost when it was found. { But O, the noble combat that 
'twixt joy and sorrow was fought in Paulina! ; She had one 
eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated 
that the oracle was fulfilled; she lifted the princess from 
the earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she would 
pin her to her heart that she might no more be in danger 
of losing. 

I Gentleman. The dignity of this act was worth the au- 
dience of kings and princes ; for by such was it acted. ^^ 

3 Gentletnan. One of the prettiest touches of all and that 
which angled for mine eyes, caught the water though not 
the fish, was when, at the relation of the queen's death, with 
the manner how^ she came to 't bravely confessed and la- 
mented by the king, how attentiveness wounded his daugh- 
ter ; till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with 
an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my 
heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed 
colour ; some sw^ooned, all sorrowed : if all the world could 
have seen 't, the woe had been universal. 

1 Gentleman. Are they returned to the court } 88 

3 Gentleman. No : the princess hearing of her mother's 
statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, — a piece many 
years in doing and now newly performed by that rare Ital- 
ian master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and 



136 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her 
custom, so perfectly he is her ape; — he so near to Her- 
mione hath done Hermione that they say one would speak 
to her and stand in hope of answer : — thither with all greed- 
iness of affection are they gone, and there they intend to 

sup. 98 

2 Gentleman. I thought she had some great matter there 
in hand ; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever 
since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. 
Shall we thither and with our company piece the rejoic- 
ing? 

I Gentleman. ,Who would be thence that has the benefit 
of access? every wink of an eye some new grace will be 
born; our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. 
Let 's along. \^Exeunt Gentlemen. 

Aictolycus. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in 
me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the 
old man and his son aboard the prince ; told him I heard 
them talk of a fardel and I know not what : but he at that 
time, overfond of the shepherd's daughter, so he then took 
her to be, who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little 
better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery re- 
mained undiscovered. But 't is all one to me ; for had I 
been the finder-out of this secret, it would not have relished 
among my other discredits. — 117 

Enter Shepherd and Clown. 

Here come those I have done good to against my will, and 
already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune. 

Shepherd. Come, boy ; I am past moe children, but thy 
sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. 

Clown. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with 
me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See 
you these clothes? say you see them not and think nie still 
no gentleman born ; you were best say these robes are not 



ACT V. SCENE II. 137 

gentlemen born : give me the lie, do, and try whether I am 
not now a gentleman born. 

Aiitolycus. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. 

Clown. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours. 

Shepherd. And so have I, boy. 130 

Clown. So you have : but I was a gentleman born before 
my father : for the king's son took me by the hand, and 
called me brother ; and then the two kings called my fa- 
ther brother; and then the prince my brother and the prin- 
cess my sister called my father father ; and so we wept, 
and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we 
shed. 

Shepherd. We may live, son, to shed many more. 

Clown. Ay ; or else 't were hard luck, being in so pre- 
posterous estate as we are. 140 

Autolyciis. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all 
the faults I have committed to your worship and to give me 
your good report to the prince my master. 

Shepherd. Prithee, son, do ; for we must be gentle, now 
we are gentlemen. 

Clown. Thou wilt amend thy life ? 

Autolycus. Ay, an it like your good worship. 

Clown. Give me thy hand ; I will swear to the prince 
thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. 

Shepherd. You may say it, but not swear it. 150 

Clown. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman ? Let boors 
and franklins say it, I '11 swear it. 

Shepherd. How if it be false, son ? 

Clown. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may 
swear it in the behalf of his friend : and I '11 swear to the 
prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou 
wilt not be drunk ; but I know thou art no tall fellow of 
thy hands and that thou wilt be drunk : but I 'II swear it, 
and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands. 

Autolyais. I will prove so, sir, to my power. t6o 



138 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Clown. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow ; if I do 
not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not be- 
ing a tall fellow, trust me not. — Hark! the kings and the 
princes, our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. 
Come, follow us ; we '11 be thy good masters. [^Exeunt. 

Scene III. A Chapel in Paulina's House. 

Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita, Camillo, 
Paulina, Lords, and Attendants. 

Leontes. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort 
That I have had of thee ! 

Paulina. What, sovereign sir, 

I did not well I meant well. All my services 
You have paid home ; but that you have vouchsaf 'd. 
With your crown'd brother and these your contracted 
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit. 
It is a surplus of your grace, which never 
My life may last to answer. 

Leontes. O Paulina, 

We honour you with trouble : but we came 
To see the statue of our queen ; your gallery 10 

Have we pass'd through, not without much content 
In many singularities, but we saw not 
That which my daughter came to look upon, 
The statue of her mother. 

Paulina. As she liv'd peerless, 

So her dead likeness, I do well believe. 
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon 
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it 
Lonely, apart. But here it is ; prepare 
To see the life as lively mock'd as ever 
Still sleep mock'd death. Behold, and say 't is well. 20 

\Paulvia draws a curtain, and discovers Llermione 
standing like a statue. 



ACT V. SCENE III. 139 

I like your silence, it the more shows off 

Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege. 

Comes it not something near? 

Leontes. Her natural posture ! — 

Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed 
Thou art Hermione ; or rather, thou art she 
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender 
As infancy and grace. — But yet, Paulina, 
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing 
So aged as this seems. 

Folixenes. O, not by much. 

Paulina. So much the more our carver's excellence ; 30 
Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her 
As she liv'd now. 

Leontes. As now she might have done, 

So much to my good comfort, as it is 
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, 
Even with such life of majesty, warm life, 
As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her ! 
I am asham'd ; does not the stone rebuke me 
For being more stone than iti^ — O royal piece ! 
There 's magic in thy majesty, which has 
My evils conjur'd to remembrance, and 40 

From thy admiring daughter took the spirits. 
Standing like stone with thee. 

Perdita. And give me leave, 

And do not say 't is superstition, that 
I kneel and then implore her blessing. — Lady, 
Dear queen, that ended when I but began, 
Give me that hand of yours to kiss. 

Paulina. O, patience ! 

The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour 's 
Not dry. 

Cainillo. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on, 
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, 50 



I40 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

So many summers dry : scarce any joy 
Did ever so long live; no sorrow- 
But kill'd itself much sooner. 

Polixenes:. Dear my brother, 

Let him that was the cause of this have power 
To take off so much grief from you as he 
Will piece up in himself. 

Paulina. Indeed, my lord. 

If I had thought the sight of my poor image 
Would thus have wrought you, — for the stone is mine — 
I 'd not have show'd it. 

Leojites. Do not draw the curtain. 

Faidina. No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your fancy 
May think anon it moves. 

Leontes. Let be, let be. 

Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already — • 
What was he that did make it? — See, my lord, 
Would you not deem it breath'd 1 and that those veins 
Did verily bear blood 1 

Polixenes. Masterly done; 

The very life seems warm upon her lip. 

Leontes. The fixure of her eye has motion in 't, 
As we are mock'd with art. 

Paulina. I '11 draw the curtain; 

My lord 's almost so far transported that 
He '11 think anon it lives. 

Leontes. O sweet Paulina, 7° 

Make me to think so twenty years together ! 
No settled senses of the world can match 
The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone. 

Paulifia. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you ; but 
I could afflict you farther. 

Leontes. Do, Paulina; 

For this affliction has a taste as sweet 
As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks, 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



141 



There is an air comes from her; what fine chisel 
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, 
For I will kiss her. 

Paulina. Good my lord, forbear ! 80 

The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; 
You '11 mar it if you kiss it, stain your own 
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain ? 

Leontes. No, not these twenty years. 

Fei'dita. So long could I 

Stand by, a looker-on. 

Paulina. Either forbear. 

Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you 
For more amazement. If you can behold it, 
I '11 make the statue move indeed, descend 
And take you by the hand; but then you '11 think — 
Which I protest against — I am assisted 90 

By wicked powers. 

Leontes. What you can make her do, 

I am content to look on ; what to speak, 
I am content to hear; for 't is as easy 
To make her speak as move. 

Paulina. It is requir'd 

You do awake your faith. Then all stand still; 
Or those that think it is unlawful business 
I am about, let them depart. 

LeoJites. Proceed ; 

No foot shall stir. 

Paulina. Music, awake her; strike ! — \Music. 

'T is time; descend; be stone no more; approach: 
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 100 

I '11 fill your grave up; stir, nay, come away, 
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him 
Dear life redeems you, — You perceive she stirs. 

\Hermione comes down. 



142 THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Start not; her actions shall be holy as 

You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her 

Until you see her die again ; for then 

You kill her double. Nay, present your hand : 

When she was young you woo'd her; now in age 

Is she become the suitor? 

Leontes. O, she 's warm ! 

If this be magic, let it be an art no 

Lawful as eating. 

Polixenes. She embraces him. 

Camillo. She hangs about his neck; 
If she pertain to life, let her speak too. 

Polixenes. Ay, and make 't manifest where she has liv'd, 
Or how stolen from the dead. 

Paulina. That she is living. 

Were it but told you, should be hooted at 
Like an old tale; but it appears she lives. 
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. — 
Please you to interpose, fair madam; kneel 
And pray your mother's blessing. — Turn, good lady; 120 

Our Perdita is found. 

Hermione. You gods, look down 

And from your sacred vials pour your graces 
Upon my daughter's head ! — Tell me, mine own. 
Where hast thou been preserv'd ? where liv'd ? how found 
Thy father's court.? for thou shalt hear that I, 
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle 
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserv'd 
Myself to see the issue. 

Paulina. There 's time enough for that; 

Lest they desire upon this push to trouble 
Your joys with like relation. — Go together, 130 

You precious winners all; your exultation 
Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, 
Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



143 



My mate, that 's never to be found again, 
Lament till I am lost. 

Leontes. O, peace, Paulina ! 

Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent, 
As I by thine a wife ; this is a match, 
And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found mine; 
But how, is to be question'd ; for I saw her, 
As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many 140 

A prayer upon her grave. I '11 not seek far — 
For him, I partly know his mind — to find thee 
An honourable husband. — Come, Camillo, 
And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty 
Is richly noted and here justified 
By us, a pair of kings. — Let 's from this place. — 
What! look upon my brother. — Both your pardons, 
That e'er I put between your holy looks 
My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law 
And son unto the king, whom heavens directing, 150 

Is troth-plight to your daughter. — Good Paulina, 
Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely 
Each oiie demand and answer to his part 
Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first 
We were dissever'd. Hastily lead away. \_Exeimt. 





VALLEY IN BOHEMIA. 



NOTES. 



ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 

Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespeariajt Gra7ninar (third edition). 
A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 

A. v., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 

B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
B. J., Ben Jonson. 

Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" oi Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. 

Cf. {confer)., compare. 

Clarke, "Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden 
Clarke (London, n. d.). 

Coll., Collier (second edition). 

Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 

D., Dyce (second edition). 

H., Hudson (first edition). 

Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). 

Id. {idem), the same. 

K., Knight (second edition). 

Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). 

Prol., Prologue. 

S., Shakespeare. 

Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 

Sr., Singer. 

St., Staunton. 

Theo., Theobald. 

W., White. 

Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
(London, i860). 

Warb., Warburton. 

Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1864). 

Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 

The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood; as 
T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolamis, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King 
Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover'' s Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 

When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. 

The numbers of the lines (except for The Winter's Tale) are those of the " Globe " 
ed. or of Crowell's reprint of that ed. 



NOTES. 




DELPHI AND MOUNT I'ARNASSUS. 



ACT I. 

Dramatis Person/e.— The folio has the following list at the end of 
the play (cf. 0th. p. 154) : 

The Names of the Actors. 
Leo?ttes, King- of Sicillia. Emilia, a Lady. 

Mamilhes, yong Pri7ice of Sicillia. Polixenes, King of Bohemia. 

Catnillo. "> Florizell, Pritice of Bohemia. 

A7itigomis. 1^ Foure OldShepheard,rep7ited Father of Perdita. 

Cleomines. j Lords of Sicillia. Clowne, his Sonne. 

Dion. J ^ utolicus, a Rogue. 

Herfnione, Queene to Leontes. ' A rchidamtis, a Lord of Bohe7nia. 

Perdi/a, Daughter to Leontes and Her- Other Lords, and Gentlemen, ajid Ser- 

mione. na^tts. 

Fazdina, wife to A ntigonns. • Shepheards, and Shephearddesses. 



148 NOTES. 

Scene I. — 6. Bohemia. The King of Bohemia. See Macb. p. 239, or 
He7i. V. p. 159. 

Hanmer changed Bohemia throughout to " Bithynia ;" but, as stated 
above (see p. 17), S. followed Greene in making Bohemia a maritime 
country. Farmer remarks: "Corporal Trim's King of Bohemia ' de- 
lighted in navigation, and had never a seaport in his dominions ;' and 
my Lord Herbert informs us that De Luines, the prime minister of 
France, vi^hen he was ambassador there, demanded whether Bohemia 
was an inland country, or ' lay upon the sea.' There is a similar mistake 
in T. G. ofV. relative to that city [Verona] and Milan." 

Visitation. Cf. iv. 4. 544 and v. i. 90 below. S. does not use msit as 
a noun. Visitings occurs in Macb. i. 5. 46. 

8. Wherein, &tc. "Though we cannot give you equal entertainment, 
yet the consciousness of our good-will shall justify us" (Johnson). 

1 1. Ill the freedom of my knowledge. As my knowledge makes me 
free to do, or gives me the right to do. Cf. Sonn. 46. 4 : "the freedom 
of that right." 

14. Unintelligent. Unconscious, not aware ; used by S. only here. 

22. Such . . . which. Cf. iv. 4. 738 below^ : " such secrets in this fardel 
or box, which none must know," etc. Gr. 278. 

25. Encounters. Meetings ; as often. See Much Ado, p. 154. 

Hath. The later folios have "have." Abbott (Gr. 334) explains it as 
the old " third person plural in //?." Cf. R. and J. prol. 8 : 

" Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows 
Doth with their death bury their parents' strife ;" 

and see note in our ed. p. 140. We have another instance in i. 2. i be- 
low ; but that is perhaps to be explained by the interposition oi star. 

Royally attorneyed. " Nobly supplied by substitution of embassies, 
etc." (Johnson); or " performed by proxy" (Schmidt). In the only 
other instance oi attorneyed in S. {M. for M. v. i. 390) it is =^ employed as 
an attorney. 

27. That. So that ; a common ellipsis. Gr. 283. The Coll. MS. 
needlessly inserts " so " before royally. 

28. A vast. The later folios have "a vast sea." Cf. Per. iii. i. i : 
" Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges." See also Ham. 
p. 186. 

30. Loves. For the plural, see Macb. p. 209 or Ham. p. 177. Cf.' 
peaces in ii. i. 135 below. 

32. Of. See Gr. 172. 

33. It is. Cf. Macb. i. 4. 58 : "It is a peerless kinsman," etc. It is 
oftener contemptuous ; as in R. and J. iv. 2. 14, A. and C. iii. 2. 6, etc. 

34. Into my note. To my knowledge. Cf. T. N. iv. 3. 29 : "it shall 
come to note," etc. 

36. Physics the subject. " Affords a cordial to the state " (Johnson). 
Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 34: "it doth physic love" (that is, preserve its health). 
For the collective use oi subject ( = people), see Ham. p. 173. 

Scene II. — i. The watery star. The "watery moon" of M. N. D. 



ACT I. SCENE II. 149 

ii, I. 162 (cf. iii. i. 203) and Rich. III. ii, 2. 69. See also R. and J. \. 4. 
62 : "the moonshine's watery beams." For hath^ see on i. I. 25 above. 
2. N'ote. Means of noting or marking time. Cf. Mtich Ado, p. 144. 
Clarke explains the shepherd'' s note as "noted by the shepherd." "The 
allusion is peculiarly happy, shepherds ' keeping watch of their flocks by 
night'' being natural astronomers. Cf. Liike, ii. 8" (Crosby). 

5. For perpeticity. For all lime, forever. Cf. Cyinb. v. 4. 6 : " Groan 
so in perpetuity," etc. 

6. Like a cipher, etc. Cf. Hen. V. prol. 17 : 

"O pardon! since a crooked figure may 
Attest in little place a million ; 
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt. 
On your imaginary forces work." 

8. Moe. Changed by most editors to "more." See A. V. L. p. 176. 

ID. Part. Depart. See M. of F. p. 145. 

12. That may llozu, etc. O that no nipping winds at home may blow, 
to make me say. This fear was too well-founded ! For the ellipsis of O, 
Farmer compares an old translation of the Alcoran of the Franciscans : 
" St. Francis . . . said to the priors, That I had a wood of such Juni- 
pers !" and The Two Noble Kinsmen : " That I, poor man, might eft- 
soons come between !" Abbott (Gr. 425) explains the passage thus : " I 
am question'd by my fears . . . that (there) may blow," etc. U. believes 
the passage to be corrupt. Hanmer changed A^o to " Some " and trjily 
to "early" (Capell " tardily ") ; and Warb. that may to "may there." 

For sneaping ( = snipping, or nipping), rf. L. L. L. i. i. 100 : "an envi- 
ous sneaping frost ;" and R. of L. 333 : "the sneaped birds." 

16. Put ns to V. Bring us to it (that is, being tired of you). Cf. iv. 4. 
153 below : " put you to 't" (that is, fear). 

17. Seven-night. Cf. Much Ado, ii. I. 375 : " a just seven-night." See 
also A. Y. Z. p. 177, note on A se''nnigiit. 

Very sooth. In very sooth, or truth. See M. ofV, p. 127 and M. N. D. 
p. 153, note on Good troth. 

18. Between 'j. As Clarke notes, this particular elision, V for iis, oc- 
curs often in this play ; and it is curious to observe how some one pe- 
culiarity will recur in certain of Shakespeare's plays, as if he thought in 
that special way at that special time of writing. For /«r/ = divide, see 
y. C. p. 186, note on Part the glories. 

20. None, none. " Shakespeare, like a true poet, knew perfectly the 
potent effect of an iterated word ; but, also like a true poet and writer of 
thorough judgment, used it but sparingly, and of course, on that account, 
with redoubled force of impression. Here it has the effect of intense 
earnestness " (Clarke). 

31. This satisfaction, etc. " We had satisfactory accounts yesterday 
of the state of Bohemia" (Johnson). 

33. Ward. Point of defence ; a metaphor taken from fencing. For 
the literal use, see Temp. i. 2. 471 : " Come from thy ward," etc. 

38. Adventure. Venture ; as in ii. 3. 162 and iv. 4. 448 below. 

39. Borrow. S. does not elsewhere use borrow as a noun, nor at with 
the name of a country. 



l^o NOTES. 

41. Let hi?n there. "Let him remain there" (Schmidt), Warb. took 
let to be — hinder (cf. Ham. i. 4. 85, etc.), and therefore changed him in 
40 to " you." Clarke adopts Malone's explanation of let him : " let or 
hinder himself," that is, stay. 

Gest. The name given to the list (Fr. giste or £zte) of the appointed 
stages in a royal progress or journey ; here = the fixed limit of the visit, 
as the context shows. Steevens cites Strype's Memorials, etc., where the 
Archbishop entreats Cecil " to let him have the new resolved upon 
gests, from that time to the end, that he might from time to time know 
where the king was ;" also Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, 1594 : 

" Castile, and lovely Elinor with him. 
Have in their gests i-esolv'd for Oxford town;" 

and the The White Devil, 161 2 : 

"like the gests in the progress, 
You know where you shall find me." 

The gests were strictly the stopping-places, but the name came to be ap- 
plied to the written list of them. 

42. Good deed. In very deed ; the ^f<?^ being intensive, as \\\ good sooth 
{Temp. ii. 2. \^o), good ti-oth (see on 17 above), etc. The ist folio has 
" (good-deed) " here, the later folios have " (good-heed) " or " (good 
heed)." 

43. Jar. Tick. Cf. the verb in Rich. II. v. 5. 51 : 

"My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar 
Their watches on unto mine eyes," etc. 

Holt White quotes Heywood, Troia Britannica : " He hears no waking- 
clocke, nor watch to jarre ;" and Malone adds The Spanish Tragedy : 
" the minutes jerring, and the clocke striking." 

44. IVhat lady she. Whatever lady she may be, any lady whatever. 
The Coll. MS. has "should" for she, and St. and Abbott (Gr. 255) print 
"lady- she." Schmidt puts the passage under " j//^ = woman " (see 
A. Y. L. p. 170, or Gr. 224), and makes the phrase = " a woman that is 
a lady ;" but it seems better to consider it elliptical, as W., Clarke, and 
others do. W. remarks that, while "should" is plausible, the original 
reading is " neither obscure nor inelegant " and " has a quaint fascina- 
tion, which is lost in the proposed emendation." Mr, J. Crosby has sug- 
gested " e'er " for she, but now prefers the latter. 

47. Limber, Flexible, weak ; the only instance of the word in S. 

48. Unsphere the stars. Remove them from their spheres (as the word 
was used in the Ptolemaic astronomy) or their orbits. Cf. M. N. D. ii, 
I. 153 : " And certain stars shot madly from their spheres," etc. 

50. Verily is. The ist folio has " Verely ' is ;" and St. and W. read 
" Verily 's." 

53. Fay your fees, etc. "An allusion to a piece of English law pro- 
cedure, which, although it may have been enforced till very recently, 
could hardly be known to any except lawyers, or those who had them- 
selves actually been in prison on a criminal charge— that, whether guilty 
or innocent, the prisoner was liable to pay a fee on his liberation" 
(Lord Campbell). 



ACT I. SCENE IT. 151 

57. Should. For Shakespeare's use of may, might, shall, should, will, 
would, etc., the reader may consult Gr. 307-331. ,.-,,• 

62. Lordings. Lordlings (not used by S.). Ihe word is=lord in 2 
Heji VL i I. 145 : " Lordings, farewell ;" and P. F.211: " It was a lord- 
ing's daughter, the fairest one of three." Cf. Spenser, E. Q. 111. 9- 3 • 
"Then listen, Lordings," etc. _ , ^, , i, ^j 

68. Changed. Exchanged ; as in Temp. 1. 2. 441 : " They have chang d 

eves " etc. 
' 70 Doctrine. Teaching, mstruction. See R. and J. p. 146, note on 
Pay that doctrine. Malone made doctrine a trisyllable, but that is not 
satisfactory here. Abbott (Gr. 505) puts the line among those with 
four accents." The later folios have " no nor dream d, and Speddmg 
conjectures " neither dream'd." 

73. Blood. Passions. See Much Ado, p. 131, note on Eaith melteth 
into blood. . . . , . , , . . 

74. The imposition cleared, etc. " That is, setting aside original sm , 
bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, we might have 
boldly protested our innocence to Heaven " (Warb.). 

77 To 's. To us. See on 18 above, and cf. 91 and 94 below. 

80. Grace to boot! " Grace or Heaven help me !" (Malone). Cf. Rich. 
III. V. 3. 301 : " Saint George to boot !" which Schmidt thinks may be a 
parallel case. 

^A. And that. That is, and //. See Gr. 285. 

86. Is he zvonyet? Leontes has been aside, playing with Mamillius 
while Hermione has been pleading with Polixenes, as he had suggested 

in 27 above. . , , , i v. 

87. At my request he would not. " Precisely the muttered comment 
of a susceptible, irritable, jealous-natured man. Be it remarked that 
Leontes is jealous by nature; Othello, by circumstance. Ihe one is 
innately given to suspicion ; the other is with difficulty made suspicious 
(Clarke). Cf p. 31 above. 

Gervinus remarks: "Coleridge thought fit to read this play in im- 
mediate connection with Othello, whose jealousy is in every respect the 
reverse of that of Leontes. It is so in fact, though we understand the 
contrast differently from Coleridge. The jealousy of Leontes, and ot 
Othello also, is not founded on the sensitive faculty alone ; in O hello 
it is deeply connected with his feelings of honour ; in Leontes with tyr- 
anny, as Shakespeare says. We should define it more clearly if we 
were to say with wilfulness. Shakespeare has in both mstances shown 
us the origin of this passion out of a mere nothing, and its frightful con- 
sequences ; the destruction of the whole happiness of life m the one, and 
the happiness of half a life in the other, from the madness of a moment. 




prone to it, has no outward circumstances to ^^ u n • 

suocrester. The difference of situation in the two is striking : Othello is 
led^o doubt the friend of whom he is jealous by facts not to be denied ; 
he is made to perceive that in his wife her own father had reasons tor 



152 NOTES. 

being deceived ; the Moor is doubtful of himself and of his own quali- 
ties, and he conceives a mistrust of himself and of the world, which w^as 
rooted in his whole situation ; all this heaped together the smouldering 
fire of his jealousy, which the false lago blew into a flame. But Leontes' 
situation is quite different : he has no causes of jealousy against his wife, 
none against his friend ; his self-reliance, his royal rank, prevent in him 
the all-pervading feeling of Othello, who thinks himself despised ; all 
those around him, the courtiers, Camillo, Antigonus, Paulina, loudly and 
firmly testify against his delusion ; but there is that within himself more 
dangerous than the slanderer at Othello's side. After his conscience 
has been once infected, after Hermione's friendly invitation and its re- 
joinder have aroused his "suspicion, he is the slave, not of love, not of 
passion, not of feeling, but of his own imagination ; dwelling on his own 
imaginings, he gives way to the most extraordinary brooding over im- 
probable and impossible things, until he is satisfied of the infallibility of 
his convictions, and confirmed in the obstinacy which characterizes the 
weak judgment of all wilful persons. This obstinacy, this hard-hearted- 
ness, embitters his disposition, and far from feeling, like Othello, pain for 
his loss, Leontes indulges in hatred and persecution, and increases both 
through his dread of intrigues, which exist only in his own imagination. 
The contrast between this wilfulness, this presumed certainty and supe- 
rior judgment, and the unsuspecting short-sightedness of Othello, is per- 
fect ; and masterly in both is the progress of the delusion, built on quite 
different foundations. In contrast with the taciturn Othello, Leontes, in 
keeping with his moody and suspicious nature, is a great talker, in whom 
thoughts and quick fancies throng, mingle, and pass rapidly from one 
object to another." 

96. Heat. Run, as in a race or heat. The Coll. MS. reads "clear," 
and "good" for goal. But to the goal—\>\x\. to return to our subject 
(dropped at 86 above). 

104. Clap thyself my love. That is, put your hand in mine, in token of 
betrothal. Cf. T. N. v. i. 159 : 

"A contract of eternal bond of love, 
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands ;" 

and see note in our ed. p. 163. See also M.for M. v. i. 209 : 

"This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract. 
Was fast belock'd in mine ;" 

and K. John, ii. i. 532 : " Command thy son and daughter to join hands." 
Clap hands was the common expression for pledging faith in this way. 
Steevens c\\jiO\.es, Ram Alley, 161 1 : 

" Speak, widow, is 't a match? 
Shall we clap it up?" 

A Trick to Catch the Old One, 1618 : " Come, clap hands, a match !" and 
Hen. V. v. 2. 133 : "And so clap hands, and a bargain." Malone adds 
from Middleton, No Wit like a Woman's : " There these young lovers 
shall clap hands together." Rowe (2d ed.) changed clap to "clepe" 
(=call). 



ACT I. SCENE 11. 



^SZ 



105. ''Tis. To mend the metre, Hanmer gave "This is," and Capell 
"it is." 

no. Tremor cordis. Trembh'ng of the heart (Latin). Dances— \\vcoh?>. 

113. Bounty's fertile bosom. Hanmer's emendation of the "bounty, fer- 
tile bosom" of the folios. It is generally adopted by the editors. 

115. Paddling pahns. A contemptuous phrase. Cf 0th. ii. i. 259: 
"Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand?" and Ham. 
iii. 4. 185 : " Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers." S. uses 
the wor^i only in these passages. 

118. The mort 0' the deer. A prolonged note blown on the horn at the 
death (Fr. /wtr/) of the deer. Steevens quotes Gxetwt, Card of Eancy : 
" He that bloweth the mort before the death of the buck may very well 
miss of his fees ;" and Chevy Chace (earliest form) : " The blewe a mort 
uppone the bent." 

119. Nor my brotvs. The allusion is to the horns of the cuckold, as in 
so many passages that follow. Cf. Much Ado, p. 123, notes on RecJieat 
and Baldrick. 

120. r fecks ! A corruption oi in faith (some say oi in fact). S. uses 
it only here. Halliwell cites Heywood, Edward IV.: "by my feckins !" 

121. Baxvcock. "A term of endearment, synonymous with cJnick [see 
Macb. p. 212], but always masculine" (Schmidt). Qi. Hen. F. iii. 2. 26, 
iv. I. 44, and T. N. iii. 4. 125. 

What, hast smtdch'd thy nose ? " It is reserved for such a poet as 
Shakespeare to fearlessly introduce such natural touches as a flying par- 
ticle of smut resting upon a child's nose, and to make it turn to wonder- 
fully effective account in stirring a father's heart, agitating it with wild 
thoughts, and prompting fierce plays upon words and bitter puns. Every 
phase that passion takes — writhing silence, tortured utterance, tearful 
lamentations, muttered jests more heart -withering than cries or com- 
plaints — all are known to Shakespeare, and are found in his page as in 
nature's" (Clarke). 

123. Not neat, tic. "Recollecting that neat is the ancient term for 
horned cattle, he says not neat, but cleanly'''' (Johnson). 

125. Virginalling. Playing with her fingers, as on a virginal, a keyed 
instrument somewhat like a small pianoforte, probably so called because 
used by young girls (Nares). It was sometimes called a pair of virginals ; 
as in Dekker's GtcPs Hombooke: "leap up and down like the nimble 
jacks of a pair of virginals." In like manner an organ was sometimes 
called a pair of organs. Halliwell quotes Middleton, Chaste Maid, where 
the goldsmith's wife says to her daughter : " Moll, have you played over 
all your old lessons o' the virginals ?" 

K. remarks that the idea conveyed in this passage is elaborated in 
Sonn. 128. 

128. Pash. A word that has puzzled the commentators (see Nares). 
Jamieson {Scottish Diet.) defines it as "head; a ludicrous term," and 
marks it as still used in Scotland. .5"//^^/j- — budding horns. 

132. O'er-dyed blacks. That is, black fabrics dyed over with some 
other colour ; or, possibly, as some explain it, dyed too much. Clarke says : 
" The unsoundness of stuffs subjected to a black dye is notorious, and 



154 



NOTES. 



renders Shakespeare's simile super -excellent." The Coll. MS. reads 
"our dead," and St. conjectures "oft dyed." Steevens remarks that 
"black will receive no other hue without discovering itself through it," 
and quotes Pliny, Hist. Nat. : " Lanaruni nigrae nullum colorem bibunt." 
Malone adds 'L.y]-^, Euphices : "Truly (quoth Camillo) my wool was 
blacke, and therefore it would take no other colour." 

Hallivvell remarks that mourning habiliments were often called blacks, 
and cites, among other illustrations, a letter dated 1619: "The queen's 
funeral is like to be deferred for want of money to buy the blacks;" and 
Heywood, E7ig. Traveller : " To weare blacks without, but other thoughts 
within." 

134. Botirn. Boundary; as in Ham. iii. i. 79, etc. 
. 136. Welkin. Heavenly (Schmidt), or, possibly, blue. See R. and J. 
p. 1 72, note on Grey eye. See also M. N. D. p. 168. 

P'or villain as a term of endearment, cf. C. of E. \. 2. 19 and T. A. v. i. 
30. It is feminine in T N. ii. 5. 16 and T. and C. iii. 2. 35. 

137. Dear' St. For the contraction, see Gr. 473. Cf. iii. 2. 199 below : 
"sweet'st, dear'st," etc. 

Collop. Part of my own flesh; literally, a slice of meat. Cf. I Hen. VI. 
V. 4. 18 : " God knows thou art a collop of my flesh !" Heywood, in his 
Epigrams, 1566 (quoted by Boswell), gives it as a proverbial phrase : 
"For I have heard saie it is a deere collup, 
That is cut out of th' owne fleshe." 

Ca7t thy dam ? — may V be ? Can thy mother be guilty of unfaithfulness .'' 
Is it possible .-* See on iii. 2. 196 below. 

138. Affection! thy intention, etc. Schmidt explains this: "Natural 
propensity, thy power rules the inmost thoughts of men." Affection, is 
clearly -sensual passion, or lust, as Mr. J. Crosby explains it (Amer. Bib- 
liflpolist, Dec. 1876, p. 121), but we are not so sure that he is right in 
making thy intention stabs the centre = ^' thy intensity penetrates to and 
pervades every foot of the habitable globe" (cf. centre in ii. i. 98 below). 
We rather take it to be = thy aim goes straight to its mark. For the rest 
of the passage Mr. Crosby's explanation is perfectly satisfactory : "Con- 
tinuing his jaundiced ruminations on \h.& effects of lust, he says, ' We know 
thy pervasive force regards not even impossible things, but overcomes 
all obstacles, making them possible and subsidiary to thy will. Why, then, 
may not my queen, who I could have sworn was purity itself, become cor- 
rupt when infected with thy poison ?' Another natural fact also strikes 
his imagination, ' We know thou comninnicaf st with dreams, though how 
this can be we are unable to explain. If, then, with what 'j- unreal thou co- 
active art, and in \Yc\.2k^\x\2X\o\-\ fellow'' st corporeally with nothing, how much 
more credent (credible) is it X\\-a.\. thou rnighfst co-join zuith something T . . . 
Thus we understand the train of his jealous logic, and see how he works 
up his mind to a state of frenzied certainty, when, in conclusion, he ex- 
claims, ' Thou dost ! I am satisfied. Thy wicked passion sates itself to 
the full, and that beyond commission — without warrant, or regard to me, or 
my authoi'ity. Already I feel the evidence of this fearful power of affec- 
tion — inwardly, in the infection, of my brains, and outwardly, peering out in 
the hardening of my broivs.'' " 



ACT I. SCENE 11. i^^ 

For credent = zxzdi\h\t, cf. M.for M. iv. 4. 29 : "a credent bulk ;" and 
for commission — v<2iXX-^\\\., cf. 40 above. See also V. and A. 568 : 
"Things out of hope are compass' d oft with venturing, 
Chiefly in love, wliose leave exceeds commission," etc. " 

147. Something . . . unsettled. Somewhat disturbed. For the transposi- 
tion of the adverbial so?net/iing, cf 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 212 : " with a white 
head and something a round belly" (that is, somewhat round). 

148. W/iat cheer, etc In the folios this line is given to Leontes ; but 
it appears to be part of the speech of Polixenes, to whom it was restored 
by Steevens, at the suggestion of Rann. The emendation is generally 
adopted by the editors. In the preceding line, St., D., and K, read " Ho '' 
for Ho%o. K., who follows the folio, says : " Leontes, even in his moody 
reverie, has his eye fixed upon his queen and Polixenes ; and when he is 
addressed by the latter with 'Ho! my lord!' he replies, with a forced 
gayety, ' What cheer ? how is 't with you V The addition of ' best broth- 
er ' is, we apprehend, meant to be uttered in a tone of bitter irony." 

149. Held. The verb is often, as here = have. Cf iv. 4. 398 below: 
" Should hold some counsel," etc. For brozu of much distraction, cf v. 2. 
45 below: "countenance of such distraction," etc. 

151. It's. One of the rare instances of the possessive neuter pronoun 
in S. See Temp. p. 120 and Ham. p. 186. The word here is spelt " it's " 
in the folios, as in every other instance except M.for M. i.i.Sif, where we 
find " its." For it possessive, see on ii. 3. 178 below. Cf Gr. 228. Itself 
is printed as two words ("it self") in the folios; and in Cymb. iii. 4. 160 
the two are separated by an adjective : "it pretty self" 

154. Methonght. The folios have " me thoughts " (" methoughts" in the 
4th); as in Rich. III. i. 4. 9, 24. There, by the way, as here, w-e find in 
the folio methonght and methonghts mixed up in the same speech. Me- 
thoughts was a form in use (probably suggested by methinks), but here 
it is probably a misprint, as we have methonght ]\x's>X. below in 159. Coll. 
adopts the reading of the Egerton MS., "my thoughts." See M. of V. 

P- 135- 

158. Do. The folios have "do's" or "does." Cf Gr. 333. 

160. Squash. An immature peascod. See M. N'. D. p. 160. 

161. Will you take eggs for money? A proverbial expression =will you 
let yourself be duped or imposed upon, or will you take an affront ? The 
origin of the phrase has not been satisfactorily made out ; but we find egg 
used to denote something insignificant or worthless in A. W. iv. 3. 280 : 
" He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister." According to the Var. of 
1821, "Smith" states that the French have a proverb, "A qui vendez- 
vous coquilles.? that is, whom do you design to affront?" Steevens 
quotes A Match at Midnight, 1633 : " I shall have eggs for my money ; I 
must hang myself;" and Reed adds from Relations of the most famous 
Kingdomes, etc., 1630 : " The French infantery skirmisheth bravely afarre 
off, and cavallery gives a furious onset at the first charge ; but after the 
first heat they will take eggs for their money" (that is, tamely yield to the 
attack). The meaning here is sufficiently shown by the reply, No, my 
lord, I UlfighL 

163. Happy man be 'j dole! " May his dole or share in life be to be a 



156 NOTES. 

happy manr (Johnson), The expression was proverbial. Cf. M. W. iii. 

4. 68, T. of S. i. I. 144, and i Heti. IV. ii. 2. 81. Dole was the term (as it 
still is in England) for a charitable allowance of provision to the poor, 
Cf. A. W. ii, 3. 76 : "what dole of honour" (that is, share, portion) ; and 
2 Hen. IV. i. i, 169 : "in the dole of blows" (that is, dealing or giving). 

170. Childness. " Childishness," which is the word elsewhere used by 

5. Cf, Cor. V. 3. 157, etc. 

171. Thick. Used by S. only here ; for thicken, see Macb. p. 212, note 
on light thickens. Cf. Macb. i. 5, 44 : "make thick my blood." 

Squire. Here used with half-sportive tenderness. For its contempt- 
uous use, cf. Much Ado, i. 3. 54, 0th. iv, 2, 145, etc, 

172. Offic'd. "Having a place or function" (Schmidt). Cf Oth.\. 3. 
271 : " My speculative and offic'd instruments " (" active " in the quartos). 

174. How thon lovest ns, etc. "Thus enjoined by himself, it could be 
only the cruel injustice of that most unjust passion, jealousy, that makes 
Leontes resent his wife's courtesy to Polixenes as a proof of her guilt " 
(Clarke), 

177. Apparent. That is, heir apparent ; as in 3 Hen. VI. ii. 2, 64 : " as 
apparent to the crown," 

178. Shall 'j-. Shall us ; that is, shall we, Cf, Cor. iv. 6. 148 : " Shall 
's to the Capitol ?" See also T. of A. iv, 3, 408, Cyinb. iv, 2. 233, v, 5. 228, 
/'^r. iv. 5. 7, etc. Gr. 215. 

W. remarks : " S. had the minute details of the old novel vividly in 
mind here : ' When Pandosto was busied with such urgent affaires that 
hee could not bee present with his friend Egistus, Bellaria would walke 
with him into the garden, where they two in privat and pleasant devises 
would passe away the time to both their contents,' " 

179. To your own bejiis, etc. Dispose of yourselves according to your 
inclination. 

181. How I give line. Cf, 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 39 : "give him line and 
scope," 

183. Neb. Beak, here=mouth. Steevens quotes Paynter, Palace of 
Pleasure, ii^66 : "the amorous wormes of love did bitterly gnawe and 
teare his heart wyth the nebs of their forked heads." Rowe changed it 
to " nib," the more common form of the word. Halliwell quotes Ken- 
nett's Glossary (MS, Lansd, 1033) : '■'• N^eb, nose, Bor. et Kent, hold up your 
nebb. Sax, nebbe, nasus, nares ; item nostrum,* the bill, beak, nib or 
nebbe of a bird; whence, by metaphor, the nib or nebbe of a pen; Island, 
nebbe, nasus ;" Two Maids of Moreclacke, 1609 : " Shal 's not busse, 
knight.? shal 's not neb?" and MS. Bodl.652: "He kisseth Benjamin, 
anon his neb he gan wipe," 

185, Allowing. " Approving " (Malone), or " conniving " (Schmidt), 

186. ForJi'd. Horned. Cf. Oth.\\\. 3. 276 : " this forked plague " (that 
is, cuckoldom). See also T. and C. i. 2. 178, 

188. So . . . whose. Cf. y. C. i. 2, 316 : " For who so firm that cannot 
be seduc'd .'"' See also such . . , which in i, i, 22 above, and such . . . that 
in 253 below. Gr. 278, 279. 

* So in Halliwell ; probably a misprint for "rostrum." — Ed. 



ACT I. SCENE 11. 



157 



190. There have been, etc. Cf. 0th. iv. i. 63 fol. 

195. Strike. Cf. Ham. i. I. 162 : "no planets strike ;" and see note in 
our eel. p. 177. 

196. Predojuinant. An astrological term. Cf. A. W. i. i. 211 : "When 
he [Mars] was predominant." See Macb. p. 203, note on Is V night's pre- 
(iominajice, etc. For on 'j- = of us, see Gr. 182. 

198. They. Omitted in the ist folio, but supplied in the 2d. 
202. This great sir. Cf. iv. 4. 350 : " this ancient sir ;" 7\ iV. iii. 4. 81 : 
" Some sir of note," etc. 

204. Came home. A nautical phrase = would not hold. 

206. More material. Either = ^/^^ more important the more you be- 
sought him (Clarke), or more urgent than -^owx petitions. 

207. They 're here with me, etc. "They go so far with respect to 
me as to whisper," etc. (Schmidt) ; or, perhaps, "they are aware of my 
condition" (V.). For ronnd—x\\\xxx\\wx, whisper, cf. K. John, ii, I. 566 : 
"rounded in the ear ;" and see Hen. VI IL p. 168, foot-note. 

208. So-forth. Steevens says : " At the corner of Fleet Market, I late- 
ly heard one woman, describing another, say ' Everybody knows that her 
husband is a so-forth.' As she spoke the last word, her fingers expressed 
the emblem of cuckoldom." 

209. Gust. Perceive; literally, taste. Cf. the noun in Sonn. 114. ii 
and T.N. i. 3. 33. 

212. So it is. We should say, as it is. 

214. Thy conceit is soaking, etc. , Thy mind is absorbent, and takes in 
more than ordinary blockheads do. Clarke sees a metaphorical allusion 
to the dyeing of hats, indicated by the word blocks, which was used for 
hats in that day, and which S. punningly uses for heads also : " Was this 
black aspect of the matter taken by any pate but thine ? For thy concep- 
tion of it is steeped in the dye, and will draw in more than the ordinary 
run of hat-heads." For block = ihe wood on which hats were formed, see 
Much Ado, i. i. 77. In Lear, iv. 6. 187 it is-^the fashion or form of a hat. 

216. Severals. Individuals. See i/d';/. F. p. 146. 

217. Lower messes. Persons of inferior rank, those who sat at the lower 
end of the table. At a great man's table, the guests were not only seated 
according to their rank or dignity, but were divided into two grades by 
the great salt-cellar in the middle of the board. Steevens cites in illus- 
tration of this Dekker, Hon. Wh.: "Plague him; set him beneath the 
salt, and let him not touch a bit till every one has had his full cut ;" and 
B. and F., Woman Hater, i. 2 : " Uncut-up pies at the nether end, filled 
with moss and stones, partly to make a shew with, and partly to keep the 
lower mess from eating." " In the Northnmberland Hotisehold Booke we 
find that the clerks of the kitchen are to be with the cooks at the 'strik- 
ing out of the messes ;' and in the same curious picture of ancient man- 
ners there are the most minute directions for serving delicacies to my 
lord's own mess, but bacon and other pieces de resistance to the Lord 
Chamberlain's and Steward's messes " (K.). Mess also sometimes meant 
a set of four ; "as at great dinners the company was usually arranged 
into fours " (Nares). Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 207 : " you three fools lacked one 
fool to make up the mess," etc. 



158 



NOTES. 



227. Chamber-coiinseh. "Private thoughts or cares " (Schmidt). The 
foHo has " Chamber-Councels " Counsel and council are often confound- 
ed in the early eds. 

228. Cleans'd my bosom. Cf. Macb. v. 3. 44 : " Cleanse the stuff'd 
bosom," etc. 

232. To bide upon V. To dwell upon it, to repeat it. 

234. Hoxes. Houghs, or hamstrings ; used by S. only here. Steevens 
quotes Knolles, Hist, of the Turks: "and with his sword hoxed his 
horse." 

236. Grafted in my serioiis trust. Thoroughly trusted by me. 

238. Home. " In good earnest " (Schmidt) ; or, perhaps, rather = com- 
pletely, to the end. Cf. Tejjip. v. i. 71 : "I will pay thy graces home ;" 
Macb. i. 3. 120 : " trusted home," etc. 

240. Fearfid. Full of fear ; referring to the coward above. See J. C. 
p. 175, note on With feaifnl bravery. 

245. Wilful -negligent. For compound adjectives, see Gr. 2. 

246. Industriously. Studiously, deliberately (Schmidt); used by S. only 
here. 

251. Against the non-performance. Heath conjectures " now-perform- 
ance," and explains the passage thus : "At the execution whereof such, 
circumstances discovered themselves as made it prudent to suspend all 
further proceeding in it." Malone remarks that this is " a good interpre- 
tation of the original text," which he has no doubt is what S. wrote. He 
considers it, and we think rightly, one of those peculiar " double neg- 
atives " of which Schmidt gives many examples in his Appendix, p. 1420. 
See A. V. L. p. 156, note on No more do yottrs. Clarke paraphrases the 
passage thus : " Of which the execution, when once effected, proclaimed 
its non-performance to have been wrong." 

253. Allotv'd. To be allowed, allowable. For such . . . that, see on 
188 above. 

256. /t^s. See on 151 above. 

262. Think. Theo. added " it," and Hanmer gave " think 't ;" but, as 
Malone notes, the clause which follows^ — My wife, etc. — is the object of 
think as well as oi thought. 

266. Hobby-horse. The folios have " holy-horse ;" corrected by Rowe. 

269. ''Shrew. Beshrew. Cf ii. 2. 30 below, and see M. N. D. p. 152. 

271. Which to reiterate, etc. To repeat which would be a sin as great 
as that of which you accuse her, if the charge were true. 

273. Noses. Omitted in Mrs. Clarke's Concordance, under nose. 

275. Note. Mark, sign. Cf 2 above. 

278. Noon. The later folios have " the noon." Abbott (Gr. 484) makes 
the word a dissyllable. In the Var. of 1821, blind is put at the end of this 
line ; and Steevens says that theirs, theirs are dissyllables. 

279. The pin and web. An early phase of cataract in the eye. Cf. Lear, 
iii. 4. 122 : " he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye," etc. Steevens, 
in a note on Lear, quotes Every Woman in her Humour, 1609 : "a pin 
and web argent, in hair du roy." Florio (as quoted by V.) defines cata- 
ratta as "a dimness of sight, occasioned by humours hardened in the 
eyes, called a cataract, or a pin and a web." 



ACT L SCENE IL 159 

290. Hovering. Wavering, irresolute. Cf. R. of L. 1297 : " First hov- 
ering o'er the paper with her quill." ^^ 

294. Glass. Hour-glass. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 240 : " At least two glasses ; 
Id. V. I. 223 : "but three glasses since," etc. See also iv. I. 16 below. 

295. //er viedal. The folios have " her Medull " (" Medul " in 4th folio). 
Theo. gave " his medal," and the Coll. MS. has " a medal." Like her med- 
rt/=like a medal of her. Steevens remarks that Sir Christopher Hatton 
is represented with a medal of Queen Elizabeth appended to his chain. 

Cf. ffeji. VIII. ii. 2. 32 : 

" a loss of her 
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre." 

YoxjeweU see T. N. p. 154, and cf. v. 2. 32 below. 

301. Meaner form. Lower seat, or position. See R. and J. p. 172. 
^^7/^/zV/= seated upon a bench, placed on a higher seat. _ The verb is used 
intransitively (=to sit on a seat of justice, to be judge) in Lear, iii. 6. 40 : 
" Bench by his side." Rear'd to jwrj-///)!) — raised to honour. 

304. Galled. The folios have "gall'd," and the later ones read "thou 
mightst." Steevens quotes Chapman's Odyssey, x. : 

"With a festival 
She '11 first receive thee ; but will spice thy bread 
With flowery poisons ;■' 

and Id. xviii. : "spice their pleasure's cup." 

305. A lasting %vink. Cf. Temp. ii. i. 285 : 

" Whiles you, doing this, 
To the perpetual wink for aye might put 
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence," etc. 

See also Ham. ii. 2. 137: "Or given my heart a winking, mute and 
dumb." 

307. Rash. Quick-acting. Cf. i Hen. IV. iii. 2. 61 : 

"rash bavin wits. 
Soon kindled and soon burnt;" 

2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 48 : " rash gunpowder," etc. 

T^o^. Malicionsly. '■'• Malignantly, vi\\\\ effects openly hnrtfuV (John- 
son). 

310. This erack. Cf. 0th. ii. 3. 330: "this crack of your love shall 
grow stronger than it was before." Z?;r(2rt'= revered, held in awe. 

311. Sovei-eignly. For the transposition of the adverb, see Gr. 421. 

312. I have lovd thee. Theo. transferred these words to the next 
speech, which he explained thus: "1 have tendered thee well, Camillo, 
but I here cancel all former respect at once : if thou any longer make a 
question of my wife's disloyalty, go from my presence, and perdition over- 
take thee for thy stubbornness !" Steevens retains the old reading, and 
says : " Camillo is about to tell Leontes how much he had loved him. 
The impatience of the king interrupts him by saying, 'Make that thy 
question,' that is, make the love of which you boast the subject of your 
future conversation, and go to the grave with it." We prefer Malone's 
interpretation : "Make that (that is, Hermione's disloyalty, which is so 



i6o NOTES. 

clear a point) a subject of debate or discussion, and go rot ! Dost thou 
think I am such a fool as to torment myself, and to bring disgrace on me 
and my children, without sufficient grounds ?" 

314. Appoint viyself, etc. We are inclined to agree with Schmidt that 
this means " to dress myself," etc. Cf. " drest in an opinion " {M. of V. i. 
I. 91), "attired in wonder" {Muck Ado,\\. i. 146), "wrapped in dismal 
thinkings" {A. W. v. 3. 128), etc. Clarke thinks appoint may mean " point 
out, mark out, stigmatize." 

317. Is goads, thorns, ^\.z. Abbott (Gr. 484, 509) is doubtful whether 
this is a line " of four accents" or ys\i^i\\QX goads and thorns are dissylla- 
bles, 

320. Ripe. Mature, urgent, pressing ; as in M. of V. i. 3. 64 : " the 
ripe wants of my friend," etc. 

321. Blench. "Fly off, be inconstant" (Schmidt). CLM.for M. iv. 

"Though sometimes you do blench from this to that, 
As cause doth minister ;" 

and T. and C. ii. 2. 68 : 

"there can be no evasion 
To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour." 

322. Fetch off. Take off, make away with. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 324 : 
" I will fetch off these justices " (that is, as Schmidt explains it, "make a 
prey of them"). 

325. Sealing the injury of tongues. Putting a stop to the mischief of 
talk or scandal. 

333. I am his cup-bearer. In Greene's tale Pandosto contriving "how 
he might best put away Egistus without suspition of treacherous murder, 
hee concluded at last to poyson him ; . . . and the better to bring the mat- 
ter to passe he called unto him his [Egistus's] cupbearer." Franion, the 
cup-bearer, endeavours to dissuade Pandosto from his purpose, but, find- 
ing it in vain, " consented as soon as opportunity would give him leave to 
dispatch Egistus" (W.). 

337. Thou splifst thine oxvn. Thou dost rive thine own ; that is, it will 
be the death of you. 

345. If I coidd find, etc. Blackstone believed this to be a reference to 
the death of Mary Queen of Scots ; but, as Douce remarks, the perpe- 
trator of that murder did flourish many years afterwards. He adds : " May 
it not rather be designed as a compliment to King James on his escape 
from the Gowrie conspiracy, an event often brought to the people's recol- 
lection during his reign, from the day on which it happened being made 
a day of thanksgiving V 

Break-neck. Halliwell quotes An Accoimt of the Christian Prince, 
1607 : " the very breaknecke of our ensueinge sports," etc. 

357. As he had. As z/he had. See Gr. 107. 

360. Wafting his eyes, etc. Turning his eyes in the opposite direction. 
For the transitive use oi falling ( = letting fall), see J. C. p. 169. 

Mason remarks here : " This is a stroke of nature worthy of Shakes- 
peare. Leontes had but a moment before assured Camillo that he would 
seem friendly to Polixenes, according to his advice ; but on meeting him, 



ACT I. SCENE If. l6i 

his jealousy gets the better of his resolution, and he finds it impossible to 
restrain his hatred." 

365. Hirw! dare not I— do not? Most editors point this " How ! dare 
not? do not." W. has "How! dare not, do not.?" The folio reads, 
" How, dare not ? doe not .?" We take the meaning to be " What ! you 
dare not ? — or is it ' do not ' that you mean ? Do you know, and yet dare 
not tell me ? You must mean something of the sort." The folio has an 
interrogation point at the end of 365, but most of the modern editors fol- 
low Capell (and Hanmer, who also changed Do you know to "You do 
know ") in transferring it to the next line, as in the text. We are not sure 
that the change is absolutely necessary, and adopt it with some hesitation. 
"Do you know, and dare not?" might be an elhpsis for "Do you know, 
and dare not tell me?" — ^just 2iS yozi mnst two lines below =you must be 
intelligent, you must avow it. Polixenes evidently suspects that Camillo, 
in saying that he dares not knoze^, means that he dares not tell what he 
knows. K., v., and the Camb. editors retain the old pointing, making Be 
intelligent to me imperative. 

For intelligent='' bearing intelligence, giving information, communica- 
tive " (Schmidt), cf. Lear, iii. 7. 12 : " Our posts shall be swift and intel- 
ligent betwixt us," See also Id. iii. i. 25 and iii. 5. 12. On thereabouts, 
cf. A. afid C. iii. 10. 29 : " Ay, are you thereabouts ?" 

376. Sighted like the basilisk. W'ith eyes like those of the fabled basilisk, 
that kill with a glance. See Hen. V. p. 183 (note on The fatal balls), or 
R. and J. p. 186 (note on Death-darting eye). 

377. Sped. Thrived, prospered. Cf. iii. 3. 46 below : " speed thee well 1" 
See also iv. 4. 652. For a different meaning, see R. and J. p. 182. 

378. Regard. Look ; as in T N. ii. 5. 59, 73, etc. 

379. Thereto. Besides. Cf. 0th. ii. i. 133^- " If she be black, and thereto 
have a wit," etc. 

380. Clerk-like. Scholar-like. Cf. the use of<;/^r/^=scholar inyl/. A^ Z>. 
V. I. 93, Hen. VIII. ii. 2. 92, Per. v, prol. 5, etc. 

381. Onr gentry. Our gentle birth. Cf. Cor. iii. 1. 144: " gentry, title, 
wisdom ;" R.of L. 569 : " By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's 
oath," etc. 

382. I71 whose sicccess, etc. To our descent from whom we owe our 
gentility, or nobility. For j-^/«r<r^j-x= succession, cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 47: 
" And so success of mischief shall be born," etc. 

388. Cojijure. For the accent, see Macb. p. 230. /'<:zr/j- = actions, tasks 
(Schmidt). 

391. Incidency. Liability to fall or happen ; used by S. only here. C£ 
incideni=\\2h\& to happen, in T of A. v. i. 203 : 

*' other incident throes 
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain 
In life's uncertain voyage," etc. 

398. Me. For me=\, cf. A. Y. L. i. 2. 279, i. 3. 44, Rich. II. iii. 3. 192, 
So7tn. 37. 14, etc. See also Gr. 210. 

400. I am appointed hivi. Abbott (Gr. 220) makes him—hy him. 
Clarke explains the passage thus ; " I am he who is appointed," etc. The 
former explanation is perhaps to be preferred. The king has not been 

L 



l62 NOTES. 

mentioned in the conversation thus far, but Camillo is thinking of him. 
Polixenes, who is not thinking of him — or at least only doubtfully — nat- 
urally asks " By whom, Camillo ?" 

404. To vice. To screw, move, or impel. Cf. the noun {=;screw), in 
Much Ado, V. 2. 21 : "you must put in the pikes with a vice," Schmidt 
cites T. N. V. i. 125 : 

"I partly know the instrument 
That screws me from my true place in your favour." 

For verbs formed from nouns, see Gr. 290. D. reads "tice " (Heath had 
suggested " 'ntice "), which W. approves, though he retains vice in the 
text. W. says that " Camillo would hardly suppose such a case as the 
violent forcing of Polixenes into the arms of Hermione ;" but vice does 
not imply any violent forcing (any more than " screws " in the passage 
just quoted), but mere motive power. The meaning is that Leontes feels 
as sure of it as if he had seen it, or been the agent to bring it about, like 
a screw which transmits the power in a machine. Cf. Nomenclator, 1585 : 
" A vice or gin of wood, wherewith such things as are done within out 
of sight, are shewed to the beholders by the turning about of wheeles." 

407. Best. Printed with a capital in the folio. For the allusion, cf. 
Rich. II. iii. 2. 132 : " Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas ;" 
Id. iv. I. 170 : " So Judas did to Christ ;" 3 Hen. VI. v. 7. 33 : " so Judas 
kiss'd his Master," etc. 

412. Swear his thought over, etc. " Endeavour to overcome his opinion 
by swearing oaths numerous as the stars " (Johnson). Szvear over—'''' swear 
down" (C. of E. v. i. 227). Overs%vearc=.^\M^2.x again, in T. N. v. i. 276. 
Some editors, including W., adopt Theobald's " Swear this though over." 
Lettsom suggests " Swear this oath over." 

414. Infiuences. The astrological term. Ql. Hani.\. i. 119, Lear. i. 2. 
136, etc. See also Milton, Comus, 336 : " Or if your influence be quite 
damm'd up ;" Hynnn on Nativity, 71 : " Bending one way their precious 
influence," etc. 

415. For to obey the moon. See on i above. Douce compares M. of V. 
iv. I. 72 : 

" You may as well go stand upon the beach, 
And bid the main flood bate his usual height." 

On for to, see IIa?n. p. 220, or Gr. 152. 

417. Whose foundation, etc, "This folly which is erected on the foun- 
dation of settled belief'' (Steevens). 

423. This irimk. This body of mine. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 6. 163 : "this 
frail and worthless trunk," etc. 

425. Whisper. For the transitive use, cf. iv. 4. 777 : " whisper him in 
your behalfs," etc. 

426. Posterns. The smaller gates, the less frequented outlets of the 
city. 

429. Discovery. Disclosure. See Ham. p. 205, note on Prevent your 
discovery. 

431. Seek to prove. That is, by any appeal to Leontes. 

433. Thereon, etc. And the execution of the sentence sworn by him. 

436. Thy places. Thy honours (Steevens). Clarke sees in //a<:^j " the 



ACT I. SCENE II. 163 

combined meaning of position as to fortune, and spot wherein to dwell ; 
for we afterwards find that Polixenes confers manifold dignities and hon- 
om-s upon Camillo, and keeps him ever near to himself in Bohemia." 

438. Hence. _ For the adjective use, cf Cymb. iii. 2. 65 : " Our hence go- 
ing " (often printed " hence-going "). 

444. Professed. Professed friendship. Cf. M. foi- M. iv. 2. 192 : "by 
the saint whom I profess " (to whom I profess devotion), etc. 

446. Good expedition, etc. A much disputed passage ; but on the whole 
Clarke's explanation seems satisfactory : " Good speed (or prosperous 
issue of events) befriend me, and comfort the queen ; who is, with myself, 
the object of his anger, but who, like myself, deserves no jot of his mis- 
conceived suspicion !" Good expedition may well enough be=good speed, 
or fortune (cf iii. 2. 143 below: "the queen's speed"). If, however, we 
take expedition in its ordinary sense, we may perhaps accept Malone's 
paraphrase : "Good expedition befriend me by removing me from a place 
of danger, and comfort the innocent queen by removing the object of her 
husband's jealousy ; the queen, who is the subject of his conversation, but 
without reason the object of his suspicion !" Halliwell renders it thus : 
" May expedition be my friend by removing me from this scene of dan- 
ger, and at the same time may my absence, the object thus accomplished, 
comfort the beautiful queen, who is, indeed, partly the subject of, but in 
no degree the reasonable object of, his suspicion." Various emendations 
have been proposed, none of which improve the passage. Warb. sug- 
gested " queen's " for queen ; "that is, be expedition my friend, and com- 
fort the queen's !" Neither he nor Johnson could see how the expedition 
of Leontes w'ould comfort the queen; but, as the Camb. editors remark, 
"his flight without Hermione would be the best means not only of secur- 
ing his own safety, but of dispelling the suspicions Leontes entertained 
of his queen." 

Malone cites, in illustration of the phraseology, T. N. iii. 4. 280 : "it is 
something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose ;" and W. adds ii. 
3. 3 below ; 

"part o' the cause. 
She, the adulteress ;— for the harlot king 
Is quite beyond mine arm," etc. 

450. Avoid. Depart, begone. Cf. C07'. iv. 5. 34 : " pray you, avoid." 
See also Temp. iv. i. 142, A. and C. v. 2. 242, Cymb. i. i. 125, etc. 

Coleridge remarks on this ist act : " Observe the easy style of chit- 
chat between Camillo and Archidamus as contrasted with the elevated 
diction on the introduction of the kings and Hermione in the second 
scene, and how admirably Polixenes' obstinate refusal to Leontes to 
stay — 

* There is no tongue that moves ; none, none i' the world 
So soon as yours, could win me ' — 

prepares for the effect produced by his afterwards yielding to Hermione ; 
which is, nevertheless, perfectly natural from mere courtesy of sex, and 
the exhaustion of the will by former efforts of denial, and well calculated 
to set hi nascent action the jealousy of Leontes. This, when once ex- 
cited, is unconsciously increased by Hermione : 



i64 NOTES. 

' Yet, good deed, Leontes, 
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind 
What lady she her lord ;' 

accompanied, as a good actress ought to represent it, by an expression 
and recoil of apprehension that she had gone too far. 

'At my request, he would not,' 
The first working of the jealous fit — 

' Too hot, too hot ;' 

The morbid tendency of Leontes to lay hold of the merest trifles, and 
his grossness immediately afterwards — 

' Paddlmg palms and pinching fingers' — 

followed by his strange loss of self-control in his dialogue with the 
little boy." 



ACT II. 

Scene I. — 5. As if I were a baby still. " Can anything be more per- 
fectly true to young boy nature ? And not only in this touch, but in 
the whole sketch of the child's character, S. has drawn Mamillius with 
' Nature's own sweet and cunning hand ' " (Clarke). 

7. For because. Cf K. John, ii. i. 588 : " But for because he hath not 
wooed rne yet," etc. On /tr^ because, see Gr. 151. 

II. Taught you this. The ist folio has "taught 'this," which W. re- 
tains and defends. It must be admitted that in some other instances the 
apostrophe seems to indicate the elision of a pronoun, etc. Cf. Gr. 461. 

20. Encounter. Befall ; as in Cymb. i. 6. 112 : 

"it were fit 
That all the plagues of hell should at one time 
Encounter such revolt." 

25. A sad tale 'j best for winter. An allusion to the title of the com- 
edy. " This first portion of the play — full of chilling suspicion, bitter in- 
justice, and cold-blooded cruelty — harmonizes finely with the name of 
The Winter'' s Tale ; while the warmth of youthful beauty, the glow of 
young love, the return of confidence, the restoration to faith and truth, 
the revival from death to life, in the latter portion of the play, poetically 
consist with the ripeness of summer and the rich colouring of the season 
then made its existing time " (Clarke). 

33. Was he met, etc. Clarke says : " Admirably does the he, his, and 
///;;/ in this line, referring to the unnamed Polixenes, serve to indicate the 
perturbation of the speaker." It is possible, however, that it merely in- 
dicates the continuation of a conversation begun before the parties come 
upon the stage. 

37. Censure. Judgment, opinion. See Ham. p. 190 or Macb. p. 251. 

38. Alack, for lesser knowledge ! Oh, would that I knew less ! 

40. Spider. Henderson remarks : " That spiders were esteemed ven- 
omous appears by the evidence of a person who was examined in Sir T. 



ACT 11. SCENE L 165 

Overbury's affair : ' The Countesse wished me to get the strongest poy- 
son I could. . . . Accordingly I bought seven great spiders, and canthar- 
ides.' " Malone quotes Holland'' s Leaguer, a pamphlet published in 1632 : 
" like the spider, which turneth all things to poison which it tasteth." 
Clarke adds, in proof that it was supposed to be necessary to see the 
spider in order to be poisoned by it, the following from a play by Mid- 

dleton : , , ,. ,,, , 

" Even when my lip touch d the contracting cup. 
Even then to see the spider!" 

For depart the Coll. MS. gives " apart," and St. conjectures "deep o't." 
The meaning appears to be "go away unconscious of harm." 

44. Cracks his gorge. That is, by endeavouring to vomit. Cf. Ham. v. 
I. 207 : " my gorge rises at it ;" and see note in our ed. p. 263. 

45. Hefts. Heavings, retchings ; used by S. only here. 

50. Discovered. Revealed, betrayed (not = found out). Cf. iv. 4. 701 
below: "any thing that is fitting to be known, discover;" and see on 
discovery, i. 2. 429 above. 

51. Pinch' d. Made ridiculous, served a trick (Schmidt). Cf. T. of 
S. ii. I. 373 : "What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?" Clarke 
believes that the word is = " galled, wounded, disabled." Some make 
pijtch'd thing =xdig-hdihy or puppet. 

65. Without-door. Outward, external. 
69. Sear. Brand ; as in A. W. ii. I. 176 : 

"my maiden's name 
Sear'd otherwise,'* etc. 

•]<). Replenished. Complete, consummate. Cf.^zV/^. ///. iv. 3. 18: "The 
most replenished sweet work of nature." 

On the passage, see p. 24 above. 

82. Mannerly distinguishment. Decent distinction. 

86. Federary. Confederate, accomplice. S. uses the word nowhere 
else, but he \vdAfedary ox fcedary in the same sense in M.forM. ii. 4. 122 
and Cymb. iii. 2. 21. 

One that knows, etc. " One that knows what she should be ashamed 
of, even if the knowledge of it rested only in her own breast and that of 
her paramour" (Malone). ^//^=only; as in loi below. "The passage 
has a confused effect (most naturally and characteristically produced, to 
accord with the speaker's agitation) from Camillo being the antecedent 
to 07ie that knows, while she 'j forms the antecedent to and privy to this, 
etc." (Clarke). 

90. Boldest. Changed by Steevens to " bold," to correct the " intoler- 
able roughness " of the line. The plural viilgars is found only here. 
Hanmer gave " the vulgar." See Gr. 201, 433. 

95. Throughly. Thoroughly. See Ham. p. 249. 

98. The centre. The earth, the centre of the Ptolemaic universe. Cf. 
T. and C. i. 3. 85 : " The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre," 
etc. See also on i. 2. 138 above. Steevens quotes Milton, Comiis, 597 : 

"if this fail, 
The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, 
And earth's base built on stubble." 



l66 NOTES. 

100. Is afar off guilty, etc. Is remotely (or indirectly) guilty for only 
speaking. Cf. M. W, i. I. 216 : " a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off 
by Sir Hugh here." Malone quotes Hoi. V. i. 2. 239 : 
" Or shall we sparingly show you far off 
The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?" 

loi. Some ill planet. For the astrological allusion, cf. i. 2. 195 above. 
Aspect (regularly accented by S. as here) was an astrological term for 
the peculiar position and influence of a heavenly body. Cf R. ofL. 14, 
Son7i. 26. 10, T. and C. i. 3, 92, Lear, ii. 2. 112, etc. 

106. But I have, etc. Douce compares Ham. i. 2. 85 : " But I have 
that within which passeth show," etc. Y ox pities, see on i. i. 30 above, 
and cf charities in 107 2iXidi peaces in 135 below. 

114. Good fools. Yoxfool as a term of pity or endearment, see A. Y. L. 
p. 151. 

115. When ye shall know, etc. " If it be desired to know the full dif- 
ference between noble pride and false pride, here is shown the former in 
perfection. No one better than S. knew the true distinction between 
them ; the right time for and due amount of self-assertion, the simplicity 
and severity of moral dignity : and in none of his characters are these 
points more notably developed than in Hermione. Her few farewell 
words to her mistaken husband in this speech combine in a wonderful 
way the essence of wifely tenderness with the utmost wifely self-respect " 
(Clarke). See also p. 24 above. 

117. Action. " Charge, accusation" (Johnson); "law-suit " (Schmidt). 
Mason and Steevens make this action I now go 07i — ^^ \Nh.2it I am now 
about to do." 

123. Be certain what you do, etc. " In the very first words Antigonus 
utters, S. shows him to us in thorough contrast with Camiilo. By the 
mere -woxd Justice Antigonus admits the possibility that Hermione may 
be guilty ; while Camiilo, from first to last, feels the impossibility of her 
guilt. Antigonus at once proclaims hims.elf a courtier, the man who 
points out to his royal master the expediency and policy of what he is 
about to do as touches his own person, his consort, and his heir-appar- 
ent ; Camiilo is the faithful counsellor, the honest friend, the loyal ser- 
vant, who strives to preserve the intrinsic honour of his king, rather than 
to maintain himself in his favour. Not only are these two characters 
finely distinguished in their delineation, the one from the other, but they 
are most dramatically framed for and adapted to the exigencies of the 
parts they are each destined to fill in the progress of the plot. Camiilo, 
vyith his honourable nature and integrity of purpose, becomes the ulti- 
mate bond of reconciliation and union between the two kings and their 
respective children ; while Antigonus, with his courtier pliancy and lack 
of earnest faith — having a glimpse of the better, yet following the worse, 
path — becomes the agent for the king's cruelty to his infant daughter, 
and loses his own life in the unworthy act " (Clarke). 

130. / 7/ keep my stables, etc. Malone explains the passage thus : " I '11 
never trust my wife out of my sight ; I '11 always go in couples with her; 
and in that respect my house shall resemble a stable, where dogs are 
kept in pairs." He adds that dogs are sometimes "tied up in couples 



ACT IL SCENE I. 



167 



under the manger of a stable." Clarke remarks that this is " a coarse 
way of saying that he would not quit his wife an instant ; treating her 
as his coach-horses and hounds are treated, which are made to go always 
harnessed, or leashed in couples^ For a different interpretation, see 
Ingleby's Shakespeare Hermeneiitics, p. 76 fol. Hanmer gave " stable- 
stand," a term of the forest-laws = a place where a deer-stealer fixes his 
stand to watch for the animals. The Coll. MS. has "me stable;" and 
the Camb. editors conjecture "my stabler" or " my stablers." 

132. Than. The folios have " Then," which Pope and some other 
editors retain ; but it is probably the old form for Than. See Gr. 70. 

135. Peaces. See on 106 above. 

137. Abused. Deceived, See Ham. p. 215. 

Putter-on. One who pnts on (see Ham. p. 257, or 0th. p. 180), or in- 
stigates. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 2. 24 : 

"they vent reproaches 
Most bitterly on you, as putter-on 
Of these exactions." 

139. Land-damjt. A stumbling-block to the commentators ; probably 
a misprint, though no one has made a satisfactory guess at the word in- 
tended. Farmer conjectured "laudanum," Heath " half-damn," Walker 
"live-damn," Nicholson " Lent-damn," etc. The Coll. MS. has "lam- 
back" (=^beat). Johnson thought land-damn might mean '■^ rid the 
country of him, condemn him to quit the land.'''' Malone suggested 
" land-dam " = kill, bury in earth; and Rann that land-damn might 
mean " condemned to the punishment of being built up in the earth." 
W. considers this last conjecture " worthy of attention as being, to say 
the least, not without reason," and, moreover, supported by T A. v. 3. 
179 : " Set him breast-deep in the earth and famish him," etc. Schmidt 
regards it as a misprint, and proposes to read "I would — Lord, damn 
him !" 

142, Doing thus. Hanmer inserts the stage-direction " Laying hold 
of his arm ;"" and the commentators generally agree that something of 
the sort is implied. Malone paraphrases the passage thus : "I see and 
feel my disgrace, as you, Antigonus, now feel me, on niy doing thus to you, 
and as yoii- noio see the instruments that feel — that is, my fingers." Heath 
conjectured " instruments of that you feel," with " If so " for If it be so. 

146. Dungy earth. The expression occurs again in A. and C. i. I. 35. 

152. Forcefid. Powerful, strong; used by S. nowhere else. 

155. In skill. Through cunning (Schmidt). Clarke explains it as 
"designedly, purposely." 

156. Relish. Feel, perceive. Cf Temp. v. i. 23 : "One of their kind, 
that relish all as sharply," etc. 

158. On V. Of it.' Cf ii. 2. 31, ii. 3. 15, iii. i. 14, and iv. 4. 5 below. 
Gr. 182. 

161. Without more ove7'ture. That is, without referring the matter to 
us, or consulting us, 

166. Approbation. Proof, confirmation. See Hen. V. p. 146 ; and for 
approve ^^xove, Ham. p, 171. 

171. Wild. Rash ; as in iv. 4. 555 below. 



l68 NOTES. 

In post. In haste, '^tt R. and J.^. 2\%. 

172, Delphos. Delphi. See on iii. i. 2 below. 

174. Of stuff'' d stcfficiency. "Of abilities more than enough" (John- 
son). Cf. Much Ado, i. I. 56 : " stuffed with all honourable virtues ;" and 
R. and y. iii. 5. 183 : " Stufif'd, as they say, with honourable parts." See 
also 0th. i. 3. 224 : " of most allowed sufficiency." 

183. Free. "That is, accessible to all" (Schmidt). 

Scene II. — 6. Whom. The ist folio has "who" here. For who= 
whom, see Gr. 274 ; and cf. v. i. 108 below. 

II. Access. Accented by S. on the first syllable only in Ham. n. i. 
no (Schmidt). Cf. v. i. 87 below. 

23. On. In consequence of. Cf. Rich. II. i. i. 9 : " If he appeal the 
duke on ancient malice," etc. Gr. 180. 

30. Licnes. Lunacies, mad freaks. The word is not found elsewhere 
in the folio, but has been substituted by some editors for lines in M. W. 
iv. 2. 22 and T. and C. ii. 3. 139, and for lunacies in Ham. iii. 3. 7 (see our 
ed. p. 232). For unsafe, the Coll. MS. has " unsane." 

33. Honey-mouth' d. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 334 : " honey-tongued Boyet." 
See also V. and A. 452 and Rich. III. iv. i. 80. 

34. Red-look' d. Red-looking. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 4. 11 : " lean-look'd 
prophets ;" and M. iV. Z>. v. i. 171 : " O grim-look'd night !" See also 
Gr. 294 and 374. 

35. Trmnpet. The word is sometimes — trumpeter or herald; and 
Schmidt explains it so here. Cf. K. John, i. i. 27 : " Be thou the trump- 
et of our wrath," etc. See also Ham. p. 176. 

45. Thriving. Prosperous, successful. Cf. J. C. iii. i. 13: "I wish 
your enterprise may thrive," etc. 

47. Presently. Immediately ; as very often. See Ham. p. 204. 

49. Hammer'' d of. Hammered on (Gr. 175), pondered. Cf. T G. of V. 

1.3. 18: 

" Nor needst thou much importune me to that 
Whereon this month I have been hammering." 

See also Rich. II. v. 5. 5 : "I '11 hammer it out." 
52. Wit. Wisdom. See T. N. p. 165. 

Scene III. — 2. Weakness. The folio reads " weaknesse, if," and is fol- 
lowed by some modern editors, who end the sentence at me in 7 below. 

3. Part o' the cause. See on i. 2. 446 above. 

4. Harlot. Lewd. The noun is sometimes masculine. Cf. C. of E. v. 
I. 205 and Cor. iii. 2. 112 (Schmidt). 

5. The blank and level. The mark and range, or aim. The blank was 
properly the white spot in the centre of the target. Cf. Havi.'\w. 1.42: 
"As level as the cannon to his blank;" 0th. iii. 4. 128: "And stood 
within the blank of his displeasure ;" Hen. VIII. i. 2. 2 : 

"I stood i' the level 
Of a full-charg'd confederacy," etc. 

See also iii. 2. 80 below. 

6. Sh£. Her. See 0th. p. 199, or Gr. 211. 



ACT 11. SCENE III. 169 

8. Moiety. Portion (as in Hatn. i. i. 90, etc.), not a half. For the lat- 
ter sense, see iii. 2. 38 and iv. 4. 790 below. 

17. Leave me solely. Leave me to myself. 

18. Hmi. That is, Polixenes, to whom his thoughts now revert. 

20. Recoil. The plural is to be explained by the intervening revejtges. 
Cf. iv. 2. 21 below : " whose loss of his most precious queen and children 
are even now to be afresh lamented." See also Gr. 412. 

In himself too mighty, etc. Malone quotes Greene's novel : " Pandosto, 
although he felt that revenge was a spur to warre, and that envy always 
proffereth Steele, yet he saw Egisthus was not only of great puissance and 
prowesse to withstand him, but also had many kings of his alliance to ayd 
him, if need should serve; for he married the Emperor of Russia's daugh- 
ter." 

27. Be second to me. Be helpful to me, second me. Cf. the use of the 
noun in Temp. iii. 3. 103, Cor. i. 4. 43, etc. 

30. Fi-ee. Free from guilt, innocent. See Ham. p. 213 or A. Y. L. 
p. 165. 

35. Heavtngs. Deep sighs. Cf Ham. iv. i. I : " these sighs, these pro- 
found heaves." 

37. Medicinal. For the accent, see 0th. p. 210, note on Medicinable. 

41. Gossips. Sponsors at baptism. In this sense the word is both mas- 
culine and feminine. Cf C. of E. v. I. 405: "a gossips' feast;" Hen. 
VIII. V. 5. 13 : " My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal," etc. 

53. Professes. Changed by Rowe to " profess ;" but, if we may trust the 
collation in the Camb. ed., he does not alter dares below. Clarke re- 
marks that the third person " gives the excellent effect of Paulina's speak- 
ing of another, while she thus confidently speaks of herself and her own 
fidelity." }ioth professes and dares may after all be misprints. 

56. Comforting. Encouraging, or aiding. Cf. T. A. ii. 3. 209 : " Why 
dost not comfort me and help me out?" Lear, iii. 5. 21 : " If I find him 
comforting the king," etc. The word properly means to strengthen (see 
the derivation in Wb.); and the noun is still used in a similar sense in 
the legal phrase "giving aid and comfort to the enemy." The Hebrew 
verb translated "comfort" in Job, ix. 27 and x. 20 is rendered "recover 
strength " in Ps. xxix. 13, and " strengtheneth " in Amos, v. 9. In Wiclif's 
version of Isa. xli. 7, we find " he coumfortide hym with nailes, that it 
shulde not be moued ;" where the A. V. has "fastened." 

60. By combat. An allusion to the practice of " trial by combat," for a 
description of which see the extracts from Holinshed in Rich. II. p. 147 
fol. and p. 159 fol. 

61. The worst. "The %ueakest,'Cc\^t least expert in the use of arms'''' 
(Steevens). 

63. Hand. Lay hands on. Cf Temp. i. 1.25: "we will not hand a 
rope more." 

67. Mankind. Masculine. Cf. Cor. iv. 2. 16: "Are you mankind.^" 
Steevens quotes The Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599: 
"That e'er I should be seen to strike a woman. — 
Wh}', she is mankind, therefore thou mayst strike her ;" 

and Mason adds from one of Jonson's Sonnets : " Pallas, now thee I call 



lyo 



NOTES. 



on, mankind maid !" Cf. B. and F., Monsieur Thomas : " A plaguy 
mankind girl;" and T/ie Woman- Hater : "Are women grown so man- 
kind?" 

68. Intelligencing, Carrying intelligence, acting as a go-between; 
used by S. nowhere else. Cf. intelligencer in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 20 : 

"The very opener and intelligencer 
Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven, 
And our dull workings." 

74. Woman-tir'' d. Hen-pecked ; the only instance of the w^ord in S. 
Tire was a term in falconry, meaning to tear and devour a prey. Cf. V. 
and A. 56 : 

" Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fastj 
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone, 
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, 
Till either gorge be stuff 'd or prey be gone;" 

and 3 Hen. VI. i. i. 269 : 

"and like an empty eagle 
Tire on the flesh of me and of my son." 

Steevens quotes Chapman, The Widow' s Tears: "He has given me a 
bone to tire on." 

78. Forced. " Constrained, unnatural, false " (Schmidt); as in iv. 4. 41 
below: "these forc'd thoughts," etc. Coll. conjectures "falsed." On 
baseness, cf. Lear, i. 2. 10 : 

"Why brand they ns 
With base? with baseness? bastardy?" 

86. Whose sting, etc. Cf. Cymb. iii. 4. 37 : 

" No, 't is slander, 
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongu§ 
Out-venoms all the worms of Nile," etc. 

90. Sound. The later folios have "found." 
Callat. A coarse or lewd woman. See 0th. p. 201. 
92. Baits. Attacks, harasses. The word literally means to set dogs 
upon, as in bear-baiting. Cf. T. N. iii. I. 130 : 

" Have you not set mine honour at the stake 
And bated it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 
That tyrannous heart can think ?" 

See also 2 Hen. VI. v. 1. 148, etc. Here there is a play on beat (pro- 
nounced bate) and baits. 

96. The old proverb, etc, St. quotes Overbury's Characters : " The 
devill cals him his white sonne ; he is so like him, that he is the worse 
for it, and he lokes after his father." 

100. Valley, Apparently explained by dimples in apposition with it 
(Schmidt). Perhaps we should read "valleys," with Hanmer. 

loi. His smiles. Omitted by Capell. 

106. No yelloiv in V. Yox yellozv as the colour of jealousy, cf. M. W. i. 
3. Ill : "I will possess him with yellowness." 

Suspect, as lie does, etc. This, of course, is an absurdity, but perhaps an 
intentional one, as in keeping with Paulina's excited state of mind. 

Clarke remarks here : " In Paulina the poet has given us a perfect pict- 



ACT II. SCENE III. 171 

lire of one of those ardent friends whose warmth of temper and want of 
judgment injure the cause they strive to benefit. Paulina, by her perse- 
verino- iterance of the word good, excites Leontes' opposition, and lashes 
him into fury ; and now, when she has made a moving appeal in her ref- 
erence to the infant's inheritance of its father's look, smile, and features, 
she cannot refrain from merging into reproach, ending in actual extrav- 
agance." ,. , r^^ 

Cf. what Mrs. Jameson says of her : " Pauhna does not fill any osten- 
sible office near the person of the queen, but is a lady of high rank m the 
court — the wife of the Lord Antigonus. She is a character strongly 
drawn from real and common life— a clever, generous, strong-mnided, 
warm-hearted woman, fearless in asserting the truth, firm m her sense ot 
ri^ht, enthusiastic in all her affections ; quick in thought, resolute in 
"word, and energetic in action ; but heedless, hot-tempered, impatient, 
loud, bold, voluble, and turbulent of tongue ; regardless of the feelings of 
those for whom she would sacrifice her life, and injuring from excess of 
zeal those whom she most wishes to serve. How many such are there in 
the world ! But Paulina, though a very termagant, is yet a poetical ter- 
magant in her way ; and the manner in which all the evil and dangerous 
tendencies of such a temper are placed before us, even while the individ- 
ual character preserves the strongest hold upon our respect and admira- 
tion, forms an impressive lesson, as well as a natural and delightful por- 

" in the scene, for instance, where she brings the infant before Leoiites 
with a hope of softening him to a sense of his injustice—' an office which,' 
as she observes, ' becomes a woman best '—her want of self-government, 
her bitter, inconsiderate reproaches, only add, as we might easily suppose, 
to his fury. Here, while we honour her courage and her affection, we can- 
not help regretting her violence. . ■, vr .u ^ v •. 

"We see, too, in Paulina, what we so often see m real lite, that it is 
not those who are most susceptible in their own temper and feelings who 
are most delicate and forbearing towards the feelings of others. She does 
not comprehend, or will not allow for, the sensitive weakness of a mind 
less firmly tempered than her own. ... _ , 

"We can only excuse Paulina by recollecting that it is a part of her 
purpose to keep alive in the heart of Leontes the remembrance of his 
queen's perfections and of his own cruel injustice. It is admirable, too, 
that Hermione and Paulina, while sufficiently approximated to afford all 
the pleasure of contrast, are never brought too nearly in contact on the 
scene or in the dialogue ;* for this would have been a fault m taste, and 
have necessarily weakened the eff'ect of both characters. Either the se- 
rene c^randeur of Hermione would have subdued and overawed the fiery 
spirit%f Paulina, or the impetuous temper of the latter must have dis- 
turbed in some respect our impression of the calm, majestic, and some- 
what melancholy beauty of Hermione." 



*" Only in tlie last scene, when, with solemnity befitting the occasion Pauhna invokes 
the majestic figure to 'descend, and be stone no more,' and where she presents her 
daughter to her, ' Turn, good lady ! our Perdita is found. 



172 NOTES. 

109. Lozel. A worthless or cowardly fellow. Reed cites Verstegan's 
Restitution, etc., 1605 : "a Losel is one that hath lost, neglected, or cast 
off his owne good and welfare, and so is become lewde and carelesse of 
credit and honesty." S. uses the word only here. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. ii. 
3- 4' 

" Ihe whyles a losell wandring by the way, 
One that to bountie never cast his mynd, 
Ne thought of honour ever did assay 
His baser brest," etc. 

119. Weak-hing' d. "Supportedby a weak hinge, ill-founded" (Schmidt). 
Cf. the use of hinge in 0th. iii. 3. 365 : " no hinge ... To hang a doubt 
on." 

127. What needs these hands? Referring to the persons who are put- 
ting her out of the room. 

139. Encounter with. Cf. V. and A. 672 : " If thou encounter with 
the boar;" i i%;2. /K i. 3. 1 14 : "He never did encounter with Glen- 
dower," etc. 

140. My proper. My own. Cf. Tejnp. iii. 3. 60 : " their proper selves ;" 
M. for M. V. i. 413 : " his proper tongue," etc. 

143. Fellozvs. Companions, peers. See T.N. p. 152. 

148. Beseech you. Rowe's emendation (perhaps unnecessary) of the 
"beseech' " of the folio. See on ii. i. 11 aloove. 

Clarke remarks here : " It is worthy of observation that the character 
of this speaker is delineated with so much moral beauty throughout 
(from that speech of chivalrous loyalty to his queen and courageous loy- 
alty to his king, ' For her, my lord, I dare my life lay down,' etc., ii. i. 126 
fol, down to the present earnest remonstrance) that in the play of any 
other dramatist it would have assumed name and shape as a personage 
of importance ; whereas, in Shakespeare's wealth of resource, and care in 
finishing even the most subordinate parts among his drajnatis persojice, 
it merely figures as ' Fiist Lord.' " 

150. Dear. Devoted, earnest, zealous. See Temp. p. 124 (note on 
The dearest 0' th' loss), or Rich. 11.^. 151. 

160. Midwife. Used contemptuously = old woman (Schmidt). 

162. This beard 's grey. Theo. conjectured " his " for this, and Coll. 
reads " thy." Perhaps, as Malone suggests, the king takes hold of the 
beard of Antigonus. See on ii. i. 142 above. Adventure^xtwtwxQ, dare ; 
as in i. 2. 38 above. 

168. Swear by this sword. See Ilajn. p. 197, note on Up07i my szvord ; 
and cf. iii. 2. 123 below. 

170. Fail. Failure. Cf. v. 1.27 below: "my issue's fail." See also 
IIe7t. VIII. i. 2. 145, Cymb. iii. 4. 66, etc. 

172. Lewd-tongiCd. Vile-tongued, foul-spoken. Ci. lewd \\\ T. of S. 
iv. 3. 65 : "A velvet dish ! fie, fie ! 't is lewd and filthy," etc. 

178. It 0W71. The reading of ist and 2d folios ; the 3d and 4th have 
"its own." This old possessive it {ox yt) is found fourteen times in the 
1st folio, and it is curious that in six of these it occurs in the combination 
it own.^ It is to be noted also that in the only instance in which its ap- 
pears in our present Bible [Lev. xxv. 5), the ed. of 161 1 has "it owne ;" 



ACT II. SCENE III 1 7^ 

and in the Geneva version of 1579 we find "it owne accorde " in Acts, 
xii. 10. So in Sylvester's Dit. Bartas, 1605 : 

"Much like a Candle fed witii it owne humour, 
By little and little it owne selfes consumer." 

These and similar instances would seem to show that the old possessive 
it was often retained in this expression after it had gone out of general 
use ; and they justify us in assuming that it ozun is what S. probably 
wrote here. Its own (or it's oxvn), of which we have a solitary instance 
in 1. 2. 256 above, may be the printer's variation from the MS.; though it 
is not nnprobable that the poet may have written it so. It is evident 
from the number of times that its occurs in this play and in Temp., writ- 
ten about the same time (seven out of the ten instances of its in the folio 
are m these two plays*), that he was getting into the way of using the 
new pronoun, and he might write its own intentionally in one passage and 
It ozvn inadvertently or trom force of habit in another. 

Hudson (school ed. oillam. p. 235) sneers at the editors— White, Fur- 
ness, the Camb. editors, and others— who retain the possessive it in the 
text, calling this " conservatism in // dotage ;" but there is precisely the 
same reason for retaining it as for retaining any other archaic word or 
construction that we find in the original text. We have no more right to 
change the possessive it to its than we have to change his to its in the 
scores of passages in which it is equivalent to the modern neuter pos- 
sessive. The " conservatism " that preserves the Elizabethan peculiarities 
of the poet's grammar and vocabulary is a praiseworthy characteristic of 
what Furnivall calls the "Victorian school" of Shakespearian criticism; 
in marked contrast to the practice of the commentators of the last cen- 
tury, who were given to "correcting" Shakespeare's English by the 
standards of their own time. 

182. Covi77iend it strangely. Commit it as a stranger (Johnson). 

184. Present. Instant, immediate ; as often. Cf. M.for M. ii. 4. 152 : 
"Sign me a present pardon for my brother;" C.ofE. v. i. 176 : "send 
some present help," etc. 

l?>6. Spirit. Monosyllabic, as often (=j/r?/^). Gr. 463. 

190. Require. Nearly=deserve ; as in iii. 2. 62 below. 

192. Loss. Halliwell quotes Baret, Alvearie, 1580 : " Losse, hurt, prop- 
erly things cast out of a shippe in time of a tempest." Cf Beji. VIII. 
11.2.31: 

" He counsels a divorce ; a loss of her 
That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years 
About his neck," etc. 

There, as here, /(?j-j = casting away, discarding. 

199. ' T is good speed, etc. Changed by Pope to " This good speed fore- 
tells," etc. For ellipsis of nominative, see Gr. 399-402. 

* In two of the other three (M.for M. i. 2. 4 and Hen. VIII. i. i. 18) it is emphatic 
Heji.yill. IS, moreover, one of the latest of the plays. The third instance is in 2 He7i. 
VI. m. 2. 393. 



174 



NOTES. 



ACT III. 



Scene I. — 2. The isle. In making "Delphos" an island, S. simply 
follows Greene's novel, in which the queen desires the king to send " six 
of his noblemen, whom he best trusted, to the isle of Delphos," etc. Per- 
haps, as has been suggested, Greene confounded Delphi with Delos. 

4. It caught me. This impressed me ; it referring to " the whole spec- 
tacle " (Johnson). 

10. Surpris''d. Overcame, overpowered. CL F. and A . Sgo : "to sur- 
prise her heart," etc. 

14. The time is zvorth the use on V. The time we have spent is worth 
the trouble it has cost us (Malone) ; or, the time has been well spent. 

17. Carriage. Conduct, management. Cf 7! rt:;/a' C. ii. 3. 140 : "The 
passage and whole carriage of this action," etc. 

19. Divine. Priest. Cf Cor. ii. 3. 64: "our divines" (the Roman 
priests), etc. 

Scene II. — 2. Pushes, etc. Steevens compares Macb. iii. i. 117 : 

"That every minute of his being thrusts 
Against my near'st of life." 

7. Purgation. Exculpation. See A. Y. L. p. 147. Here the word is 
a quadrisyllable. Gr. 479. 

10. Silence. The ist folio prints the word in italics, like a stage-direc- 
tion ; the later folios have ^^ Silence. Enter,^'' etc. Rowe made Silence 
a part of the Officer's speech, as in the text. Capell and D. assign it to 
a crier, and the latter compares Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 2. As the Camb. edi- 
tors remark, there is no reason why the officer who has already spoken 
should not also command silence. 

16. Pretence. Intention, design. Cf, Macb. ii. 3. 137 : 

"Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight 
Of treasonous malice," etc. 

25. Mine integrity, etc. " My virtue being accounted wickedness, my 
assertion of it will pass but for a //>" (Johnson). 

27. If poivers divine, etc. Malone quotes Greene's novel : "If the di- 
vine pozvers be privie to hitman actions {as no doubt they are) I hope my 
patience shall make fortune blush, and my unspotted life shall stayne 
spiteful discredit." 

Clarke remarks upon as they do : " The fervour, faith, courage, yet 
simplicity, summed in these three monosyllables, it would be difficult to 
match. Shakespeare's parentheses are often marvels of condensed 
power ; wonderful force and extent of meaning summed in a few words." 

32. IVho. Rowe's correction of the " Whom " of the folios. 

34. Which. That is, which unhappiness (Malone). 

36. Take. Captivate. Cf. 7>;«/. v. i. 313 : 

"To hear the story of your life, which must 
Take the ear strangely," etc. 

37. Ozve. Own, possess ; as very often. Cf A. W. v. 3. 297, Macb. 



ACT III. SCENE IT. 



175 



1. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, iii. 4. 113, etc. We have the modern meaning in v. i. 217 
below. 

38. Moiety. See on ii. 3. 8 above. 

40. Fore. See Hen. K p. 155. 

41. For life, etc. '''Life is to me now only grief and as such only is 
considered by me; I would therefore willingly discard it" (Johnson). 
Clarke paraphrases it thus : "I estimate life as I estimate grief — things 
that I could willingly part with, while the one I would avoid destroying, 
and the other I would avoid encountering." 

43. '' T is a derivative, tic. "This sentiment, which is probably bor- 
rowed from Ecclesiasticiis,\\\. II, cannot be too often impressed on the 
female mind : ' The glory of a man is from the honour of his father ; and 
a mother in dishonour is a reproach nnto her children ' " (Johnson). 

48. With what encounter, ^X.c. "With what unwarrantable familiarity 
of intercourse I have so far exceeded bounds, or gone astray, that I 
should be forced to appear thus in a public court as a criminal " (D.). 
For encounter, cf. Mnch Ado, iii. 3. 161, iv. i. 94, A. W. iii. 7. 32, etc. Un- 
current = "objectionable" (Schmidt), unallowable (like false coin, that 
is not allowed to "pass"), ^'/nzm^*^ = twisted or wrenched aside, 
turned from the right course. Cf. R. and J. ii. 3. 19 : " Nor aught so 
good bat, strain'd from that fair use," etc. Mason conjectured " stray'd," 
which he thought to be favoured by one jot beyond the bound of hono7cr. 

54. Wanted less impudence, etc. A form of "double negative" which 
has caused much trouble to the critics, though it is not uncommon in S, 
See A. Y. L. p. 156, note on No 7nore do yours. As Johnson remarks, 
"according to the proper, at least according to the present, use of words, 
less should be more, or wanted should be had.'''' 

57. Dne. Appropriate, applicable. 

58. More than mistress of^Xz. Hanmer inserted "I'm" before mis- 
tress, but the ellipsis does not differ essentially from others in the play. 
The meaning evidently is, I must not acknowledge more faults than be- 
long to me. Cf A. Y. L. i. 2. 4 : "I show more mirth than I am mis- 
tress of." 

62. Requir''d. Deserved. See on ii. 3. 190 above. 

65. As yourself co7?i?nanded. See i. 2. 174 above. "Nobly, simply, 
truly, does Hermione state this point of self-vindication, and with as 
noble a forbearance towards her most unjust husband" (Clarke). 

75. Wotting. If they know. See Gr, 377, and cf. v. i. 229 below : 
" Your honour not o'erthrown," etc. Wot occurs only in the present 
tense and participle, and this is the only instance of the latter in S. 

80. Level. See on ii. 3. 5 above. The passage is = my life is at the 
mercy of your suspicions, which are like "the baseless fabric" of a 
dream. 

81. Which. Referring to life, not to the nearer dreams. Cf Gr. 218, 
262, and 263. 

84. Fact. The only meaning Schmidt gives to the word in S. is "evil 
deed, crime." See Macb. p. 225. If we take it in its simple etymologi- 
cal sense (from l^zUufactiim), it is = deed, which is proper enough here. 
Johnson needlessly conjectured "pack," and Farmer "sect." "Pact" 



176 NOTES. 

has also been suggested. Those of your fact =' those who do as you 
have done. 

85. Which to deny, etc. " It is your business to deny this charge, but 
the mere denial will be useless — will prove nothing" (Malone). 

91. Bug. Bugbear. See Ham. p. 267. For the derivation, see Wb. 
Cf. Ascham, Toxophilus : "which be the very bugges that the Psalme 
[Ps. xci. 5] meaneth on, walking in the night," etc. 

92. Commodity. Advantage. Cf. 2 Heu. IV. i. 2. 278: "I will turn 
diseases to commodity," etc. 

93. The crown and comfort of my life. " The supreme blessing of my 
life " (Malone). Cf. Cymb. i, 6. 4 : " My supreme crown of grief," etc. 

98. Sta7'r''d most imluckily. That is, born under " inauspicious stars " 
{R. and y. v. 3. III). For the astrological allusion, cf. i. 2. 195, 351, and 
413 above. 

99. //. See on ii. 3. 178 above. 

100. Hafd. Hauled, dragged. See Much Ado, p. 137. 

loi. Proclaim'' d. Printed "proclaimed" in the Camb. and Globe eds. 
The folio has " Proclaym'd." 

hnmodest. " Immoderate " (Schmidt) ; with perhaps the added idea 
of "indecent, unseemly," as Clarke suggests. 

102. Longs. Belongs. See Hejt. V. p. 160, or Hen. VIII. p. 162. 

105. Strength of limit. " The limited degree of strength which it is 
customary for women to acquire before they are suffered to go abroad 
after child-bearing " (Mason). The 3d and 4th folios have " limbs " for 
limit. 

108. For life. The folio has " no life," which might pass with Han- 
mer's pointing, " No ! life," etc. It seems more probable, however, that 
" no " is a misprint. For is Keightley's conjecture (cf. 41 above) ; W. 
reads "my." 

114. I do refer me to the oracle. Cf. Greene's novel : "And that this 
is true which t have here rehearsed, I refer myselfe to the divine oracle." 

118. The emperor of Rjissia, etc. See extract from Greene, quoted on 
ii. 3. 20 above. 

121. Flatness. "Downrightness, absoluteness, completeness" (Schmidt); 
the "fiat despair" of Milton {^P. L. ii. 143). S. uses the word only here. 

122. Pity, not revenge. " True Shakespeare ! Magnanimity and for- 
bearance to the utmost" (Clarke). 

123. C/pon this sword. See on ii. 3. 168 above. 

130. Breah iip. Cf. M. of V. ii. 4.^10 : " to break up this " (a letter) ; 
and see note in our ed. p. 141. 

131. Herniiojie is chaste, etc. Cf. Greene's novel (quoted by Malone) : 
" The Oracle. Suspicion is no proofe ; jealousie is an unequal judge ; 
Bellaria is chaste ; Egisthus blameless ; Franion a true subject ; Pan- 
dosto treacherous ; his babe innocent ; and the kinge shall dye without 
an heire, if that which is lost be not found." Coll. states that the eds. 
subsequent to 1588 read "the king shall live without an heire." It is 
probable, therefore, that S. used one of these later impressions. 

Coleridge remarks : " Although, on the whole, this play is exquisitely 
respondent to its title, and even in the fault I am about to mention still 



ACT III. SCENE II. 177 

a winter's tale ; yet it seems a mere indolence of the great bard not to 
have provided in the oracular response some ground for Hermione's 
seeming death and fifteen years' voluntary concealment. This might 
have been easily effected by some obscure sentence of the oracle ; as, for 
example : ' Nor shall he ever recover an heir, if he have a wife before 
that recovery.' " Cf. what Mrs. Jameson says, p. 25 above ; and see also 
the extract from Dowden, p. 32. 

141. To report it. For reporting it. Gr. 356. 

142. Conceit. Conception, apprehension. See Ham. p. 213, or A. Y. 
L. p. 162. Speed — fortune. Cf. the use of the verb in i. 2. 377 above. 

144. {^Herniione stvoons.'] *' This mute succumbence to the blow dealt 
her in the sudden death of her little son is not only finely tragic, but pro- 
foundly true to the character of Hermione. She is not a woman ' prone 
to weeping,' not one who can so ease her heart of that which ' burns 
worse than tears drown;' she can command her voice to utter that dig- 
nified defence of her honour, and bear the revulsion of thanksgiving at 
the divine intervention in her behalf with the single ejaculation of 
* Praised !' but at the abrupt announcement of her boy's death she drops, 
without a word, stricken to the earth by the weight of her tearless woe " 
(Clarke). 

160. Tardied. Retarded, delayed ; the only instance of the verb in S. 

161. Though I with death, etc. Cf. Macb. i. 3. 60 : 

" Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 
Your favours nor your hate." 
See also 203 below. 

165. Unclasp'd my practice. Disclosed my plot. For tinclasp''d, see 
T. N.^. 127 ; and iox practice, Ham. p. 255 or Much Ado, p. 156. 

166. The hazard. The 2d folio reads " the certain hazard," which is 
quite in Shakespeare's manner, though Malone calls certain "the most 
improper word that could have been chosen." Cf. R. of L. 13 11 : " Her 
certain sorrow writ uncertainly;" Sonn. 115. 1 1 : "When I was certain 
o'er incertainty," eta These and similar passages may have suggested 
the emendation to the editor of the 2d folio. Rann conjectured " fearful 
hazard," and Malone "doubtful hazard." 

167. Iiicertainties. S. uses this word interchangeably with ziiicertain- 
ty, as incertain with 2iucertain. 

168. No richer than his honour. That is, with nothing to depend upon 
but his honour ; having left all his wealth behind him when he fled. St. 
joins this to the next sentence, putting a period after commended. 

Glisters. Glistens (not used by S.), shines. See M. of V. p, 145. 

169. Thorough. The ist folio has "Through" (the later folios 
"Through my dark "), but as S. uses thorough and through interchange- 
ably, Malone's emendation has been generally adopted. See M. N. D. 
p. 136. Cf throughly in ii. I. 95 above. 

170. Does my deeds, etc. "This vehement retraction of Leontes, ac- 
companied with the confession of more crimes than he was suspected of, 
is agreeable to our daily experience of the vicissitudes of violent tempers, 
and the eruptions of minds oppressed with guilt " (Johnson). 

Woe the while ! Cf Hen. V. iv. 7. 78 and J. C. i. 3. %2. 

M 



1 78 NOTES. 

174. Capell inserted "rather!" 2Sier Jlaying \.o fill out the measure; 
and the Coll. MS. has "burning, boiling." The folio reads "boyling?" 

According to a statute of Henry VIII. persons found guilty of secret 
poisoning were to be boiled to death. 

177. Mosi worst. For double comparatives and superlatives in S., see 
Gr. II. 

182. Were but spices of it. " Served only to season it, to give it a zest " 
(Schmidt). Ci. Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 26 : " For all this spice of your hypoc- 
risy." 

184. Of a fool. As a fool, in the matter of folly (Gr. 173). Johnson ex- 
plains the passage : " It showed \.\\q& first a fool, then inconstant and un- 
grateful." Theo. changed/f^/ to "soul," and Warb. of\.o "off." Cole- 
ridge says : " I think the original word is Shakespeare's, i. My ear feels 
it to be Shakespearian; 2. The involved grammar is Shakespearian: 
'show thee, being a fool naturally, to have improved thy folly by incon- 
stancy;' 3. The alteration is most flat, and un-Shakespearian. As to the 
grossness of the abuse — she calls him ' gross and foolish ' a few lines be- 
low." 

185. Damnable. For the adverbial use, cf A. W. iv. 3. 31 : "meant 
damnable," etc. Gr. i. 

186. Thou zuouldst have poisoii'd, etc. " How should Paulina know 
this .'' No one had charged the king with this crime except himself, while 
Paulina was absent, attending on Hermione. The poet seems to have 
forgotten this circumstance " (Malone). Cf p. 17 above. 

191. Shed water out of fire. "Dropped tears from burning eyes" 
(Clarke). Steevens says, "shed tears of pity <?Vr the damned f but that 
would hardly be expressed by '■'■ oict ^fire." 

196. Dam. Elsewhere applied only in contempt to a human mother. 
Cf. i. 2. 137 and ii. 3. 94 above. 

203. Tificture. Colour. Cf. T. G. of V. iv. 4. 160: "the lily tincture 
of her face ;" Sonn. 54. 6 : "As the perfumed tincture of the roses," etc. 

207. A thousand knees, etc. " There is a wild exaggeration, a sublime 
extravagance, in Paulina's diction that poetry alone can fitly give, and 
which Shakespeare's poetry finely gives. These * naked, fasting,' ' thou- 
sand knees'' — how grandly superior, in their bold ellipse, to the ' thousand 
kneeling meji ' that tame correctness would have given !" (Clarke). 

215. Made fault. Cf R. of L. 804 : "all the faults which in thy reign 
are made ;" and Sonn. 35. 5 : " All men make faults," etc. 

220. What 's past help, etc. Cf L. L. L. v. 2. 28 : " past cure is still 
past care." 

222. Petition. The word has been suspected, and "relation" (Sr.), 
"repetition" (Coll. MS.), etc., have been proposed; hwi petition may 
be = appeal. Clarke remarks that Paulina has urged the king 7iot 
to repent, to betake himself to despair, etc., which may justify the use of 
petition. 

223. Minded. Reminded. Cf Hen. V. iv. 3. 13 : "I do thee wrong to 
mind thee of it," etc. 

228. Remember thee. Remind thee ; as in Temp. i. 2. 243 : " Let me re- 
member thee what thou hast promis'd," etc. 



ACT III. SCENE III. lyo 

229. Take your patience to yon. Have patience ; as in Hen. VIII. v. i. 

106 : 

you must take 
Your patience to you, and be well contented 
To make your house our Tower." 

Scene III. — i. Perfect. "Certain, well assured" (Johnson). Ci. 
Cymb. iii. i. 73 : 

" I am perfect 
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for 
Their liberties are now in arms ;" 

and see Id. iv. 2. 118. 

2. Bohemia. S. took his maritime Bohemia directly from Greene's 
novel (see. p. 17 above); but the author of Consnelo has attempted to 
save the poet's credit by showing that Ottokar II. possessed in addition 
to his Bohemian and other territories a j-^^?/*?;-^ (possibly the little port of 
Naon) which he purchased on the Adriatic, in order to justify the boast 
that his dominions extended to that sea. 

4. Present. Immediate, as in i. 2. 269, ii. 3. 184 above, and iv. 2. 46 be- 
low. 

II. Loud zveather . Cf. Temp. i. i. 40 : " they are louder than the weath- 
er," etc. 

20. Some another. That is, sometimes on the other. For the use of 
another, cf. v. 2. 71 below : "another elevated," etc. See also M. N. D. 
p. 168, 

21. A vessel of like sorrow, etc. Cf. J. C. v. 5. 13 : 

"Now is that noble vessel full of grief, 
That it runs over even at his eyes." 

22. Becoming. Comely ; referring rather to what follows than to what 
precedes. The Coll. MS. has "o'er-running." St. makes (^^<:^;//z;/^=" self- 
restrained." 

26. The fitry. The frantic burst of grief. 

32. Weep. The Coll. MS. gives "wend ;" but cf. 51 below : " Weep I 
cannot," which may refer to the injunction of the vision. 

For. Because. See Gr. 151. 

39. Toys. Explained by i Hen. IV. iv. I. 145 : "a toy, a thing of no 
regard." See also M. N. D. p. 179. 

41. Squared. Ruled. Cf. v. i. 52 below. 

45. Ea7'th. Land, country ; as in Rich. II. ii. i. 41, 50, iii. 2. 10, v. i. 5, 
etc. 

46. Blossom. Cf I Hen. VI. iv. 7. 16 : "My Icarus, my blossom," etc. 
For speed— i-^XQ:, see on i. 2. 377 above. 

47. Character. "The letters of Antigonus," mentioned in v. 2. 32 be- 
low; as these are the "mantle" and the "jewel," with the "gold" of iii 
below. 

48. Breed. Furnish the means ol breeding, or bringing up. 

49. Rest. Remain. See A. Y. L. p. 146. On wretch, cf. R. and J. i. 3. 
44 ; "The pretty wretch left crying," etc. 

51. Loss. See on ii. 3. 192 above. 



iSo NOTES. 

55, Lullaby. Cf. Greene's novel : ''Shalt thou have the whistling winds 
for thy lullaby, and the salt sea-fome, instead of sweete milke?" 

56. Clamour. " This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters ; 
then seeing the bear, he cries This is the chase, or the aniitial pursued'''' 
(Johnson). 

59. Sixteen. The early eds. have " ten," which Hanmer changed to 
"thirteen;" but, as the Camb. editors remark, "if written in Arabic nu- 
merals 16 would be more likely to be mistaken for 10 than 13," and it 
suits the context better. 

62. Ancientry. Old people. Qi. Much Ado, ii. I. 80: "full of state 
and ancientry;" and see note in our ed. p. 129. 

63, Boiled brains. "Hot-headed fellows" (Schmidt). Cf. Temp. v. i. 

60 : 

"A solemn air and the best comforter 
To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains, 
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull!" 

and M. N. D.v. 1.4 : " Lovers and madmen have such seething brains." 

67. Broivsing of ivy. In Greene's novel, the shepherd goes to the sea- 
shore, " to see if perchance the sheepe was bronzing on the sea-ivy, where- 
on they doe greatly feed." 

68. A barne. A child (Scottish bairn). See Much Ado, p. 150. 

69. A boy or a child. According to Halliwell's Archaic Diet, the word 
child=^\x\ in the Devonshire dialect; and this is confirmed by a corre- 
spondent of Knight's, who says that it is still used by the peasantry in 
parts of Somerset as well as Devon. W. reads " a god or a child," and 
quotes Greene's novel, where it is said that the shepherd, " who before 
had never scene so faire a babe nor so riche jewels, thought assuredly 
that it was soi7ie little god,'''' but when it began to cry, "knew it was a 
childe:' 

70. Scape. See Ham. p. 188, or Wb. s. v. 

79. Betivixt the firmatnent, etc. Cf. 0th. ii. 1.2: 

"it is a high-wrought flood; 
I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main. 
Descry a sail." 

86. Yest. Foam; used by S. only here. Cf. Macb. iv. i. 53 : " the yesty 
waves," etc. 

91. Flap-dragoned it. Swallowed it like -^flap-dragon — " a small com- 
bustible body [an almond, plum, or raisin] set on fire and put afloat in a 
glass of liquor, to be swallowed flaming " (Schmidt). See L. L.L. v. i. 
45 and 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 267. 

99. The old man. Changed by Theo. to "the nobleman." See p. 18 
above. Malone suggests that the word old may have been dropped by 
the folio printer from the Clown's description; or, as Steevens says, the 
shepherd may have inferred the age of Antigonus from his inability to de- 
fend himself. 

loi. Ship side. Collier reads "ship's side ;" but see 0th. p. 155, note 
on Oath sake. 

103. Heavy matters! Sad business ! For look thee, cf. T.of A. iv. 3. 
530, etc. Gr. 212. 



ACT IV. SCEA^E I. i8i 

io6. Bearing-doth. " The fine mantle or cloth with which a child is 
usually covered when it is carried to the church to be baptized'' (Percy). 

1 08. Changeli7ig. A child left by the fairies in exchange for one stolen 
by them. See M. N. D. p. 138. 

1 10. Made. The folios have " mad ;" corrected by Theo. Cf. M. A\ D. 
iv. 2. 18 : " we had all been made men ;" 0th. i. 2. 51 : " he 's made for- 
ever," etc. Farmer remarks that the word is taken from Greene's novel : 
" The good man desired his wife to be quiet : if she would hold peace, 
they were made for ever." 

{\2,. N'ext. Nearest ; as in I Hen. IV. iii. i. 264, etc. We still speak 
of " the next village " {A. Y.L. iii, 3. 44), " the next room " {Rich. III. i. 4. 
161), etc. 

118. Ctirst. Mischievous, or savage. Cf. V. and A. 887: "Finding 
their enemy [the boar] to be so curst ;" Much Ado, ii. i. 22 : " a curst 
cow," etc. See also M. N. D. p. 167. 

125. We '// do good deeds on 'A " Not only does S. here record the 
strong feeling of reverence for the rights of sepulture among the poor, but 
he takes occasion to inculcate a lovely lesson of simple piety and moral- 
ity — that the truest celebration of a piece of good fortune is to perform 
some good act in token of gratitude " (Clarke). 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. — In the folios this is made the first scene of the fourth act, as 
here. Theo. placed it between the two acts as an interlude ; Warb. and 
Johnson put it at the end of the third act ; though the latter, who appar- 
ently did not refer to the folios, remarks that it " rather begins the fourth 
act than concludes the third." 

W. suspects that S. did not write the speech. He says : " There could 
hardly be greater diff"erence in style than that between Time's speech as 
Chorus and the rest of the verse in this play. The former is direct, sim- 
ple, composed of the commonest words used in their commonest signifi- 
cation, but bald and tame, and in its versification very constrained and 
ungraceful ; the latter is involved, parenthetical, having a vocabulary of 
its own, but rich in beauties of thought and expression, and entirely un- 
trammelled by the form in which it is written." He goes on to compare 
the speech with the Epilogue to Temp, and the Prologue to Hen. VIII., 
which he believes to be " from the same pen, and that not Shakespeare's." 
All three he is inclined to ascribe to Chapman. 

It seems to us that, not only the style of the speech, but its being in 
rhyme, may lead us to doubt whether S. wrote it. We can hardly believe 
it is from the same hand as the magnificent choruses in Hen. V., which 
show how the poet did things of that kind when he chose to do them. 
If he wrote this one, it must have been in some uninspired moment after 
the rest of the play was finished — possibly at the request of some man- 
ager who thought the gap in the action should be bridged over in that 
way. 



1 82 NOTES. 

6. Sixteen years. S'teevens shows that such violations of dramatic uni- 
ty were not uncommon in the plays of the time. For example, Lyly, in 
his Endyniion, has an interval of forty years between two acts. Whet- 
stone, in the dedication of his Piomos and Cassandra, 1579, says : "The 
Englishman, in this quallitie, is most vaine, indiscreete, and out of order. 
He first grounds his worke on impossibilities : then in three houres 
ronnes he throwe the worlde : marryes, gets children, makes children 
men, men to conquer kingdomes, murder monsters," etc. 

The growth untried— t\i& progress unconsidered, or " unattempted " 
(cf, Milton, P. L. i. 16) in the play. 

8. One self-born. One and the same. The hyphen is in the early eds., 
but Schmidt objects to it as unintelligible. 

14. Glistering. See on iii. 2. 168 above. 

15. Now seefns to it. That is, seems stale to this present. 
17. As. As if. Gr. 107. 

Leontes leaving, etc. The ist folio prints the passage thus : 

" Leonies leauing 
Th' efifects of his fond iealousies, so greening 
That he shuts vp himselfe. Imagine me 
(Gentle Spectators) that I now may be 
In faire Bohemia, and remember well, 
I mentioned a sonne o' th' Kings, which Florizell 
I now name to you: and with speed so pace 
To speake of Perdita, now growne in grace 
Equall with wond'ring." 

W. and some other editors retain this pointing in the first three lines, 
merely changing the period after himself Xo a com.ma, as the later folios 
do. St. was the first to put the comma after Leontes, and make the next 
clause parenthetical. He is followed by the Camb. editors, D., Clarke, 
Delius, and others. 

19. Imagijie me. That is, with me, or for me. Cf. L. L. L. i. i. 80 : 
" Study me how to please the eye," etc. Gr. 220. 

22. 1 i?iention''d. The ist folio (see above) has "mentioned ;" the later 
folios, "I mention here." Hanmer substituted "There is;" and Pope, 
as usual, "corrected" which to "whom." 

25. Wondering. Admiration. Cf. Sonn. 106. 14 : " Have eyes to won- 
der, but lack tongues to praise," etc. 

26. I list not prophesy. I do not choose to predict. For the omis- 
sion of to, see Gr. 349. 

28. To her adheres. Pertains to her, concerns her. 

29. Argument. Subject, theme. See M. N. D. p. 166, and cf. Ham. 
p. 207. 

Of this «//^w-~permit this (Schmidt). Malone makes a//i77£/ = approve. 

Scene II. — 4. Fifteen. Changed by Hanmer to "sixteen," to con- 
form to iv. I. 6 ; but S. is not always consistent in these matters. 

5. Been aired. Schmidt makes this=been led forth, led about. It 
seems rather to be = ]ived, breathed the air, or been in the air — in dis- 
tinction from being in the grave, which, as Polonius says {Ham. ii. 2. 210), 
"is out o' the air." 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 183 

8. Cerween. Presume, or have the presumption, Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 
144 ; " my heart o'erweens too much," etc. 

12. Want. Be without, as in M. N. D. \\. i. loi : " The human mortals 
want their winter here," etc. 

17. Friendships. Friendly services. Cf. M. of V. i. 3. 169 : " I extend 
this friendship," etc. 

22. Are. See on ii. 3. 20 above. Gr. 412. 

25. Approved. Proved, as often. See Ham. p. 171. 

28. Missingly. Apparently = from missing him; that is, my missing 
him has led me to note his frequent absence. Steevens explains it as " at 
intervals," and Schmidt "with regret." 

29. Frequent to. Addicted to, or attentive to. S. uses the adjective 
only here and in So7tn. 117. 4, where it is = conversant, intimate. 

33. look npoft his removedness. Watch him in his absence. 

36. Is grozvn into an nnspeakable estate. Has become surprisingly rich. 

39. N'ote. Notoriety, fame. 

41. But, I fear, the angle, etc. But, I fear, it is the attraction, etc. The 
use of but seems at first peculiar, and Theo. substituted and ; but no 
change is absolutely required. It may be one of those cases in which the 
conjunction refers to something implied rather than expressed. Camillo 
refers to the reports of the daughter's beauty merely as an additional bit 
of intelligence, apparently not connecting it with Florizel's visits to the 
cottage ; Polixenes, perceiving this by his tone and manner, says in sub- 
stance, " I, too, have heard of the pretty daughter, bnt [to me it isn't a fact 
without significance, for] I fear she is the attraction that draws my son 
thither." Some editors read, "but I fear the angle," etc. The folio, how- 
ever, has "but (I feare) the Angle," etc. 

On angle, see Ham. p. 269, and cf. the verb in i. 2. 180 above and v. 2. 
79 below. Clarke suspects an allusion to Pope Gregory's pun on Angli 
and Angeli (see M. of V. p. 144, note on InsaUp\l upon), but this is more 
than doubtful. 

Plucks, as we have elsewhere noticed [Ham. p. 255 and T. N. p. 168), 
is a pet word with S. 

OA- Q^i^^tion. Talk, conversation. See ^. F. Z. p. 178. 

45. Uneasy. Difficult, 7tot easy. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 451 : 

"but this swift business 
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning 
Make the prize light." 

It is curious that the word has become obsolete in this sense, though it is 
still the negative of the other sense oi easy (= comfortable). Cf. 2 Hen. 
IV. iii. I. ID : " Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee ;" and Id. iii. i. 31 : 
" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." The word occurs in S. only 
these four times. 

Scene III.— i. Daffodils. Schmidt says that the poet's daffodil is 
" probably the snowdrop," but according "to EUacombe {^Plant-lore of 
Shaks.) it is the wild daffodil of England (^Narcissus pseudo- Narcissus), the 
only species except N. biflorus which is native to the country, though 



1 84 NOTES. 

many others had been introduced from other parts of Europe before the 
time of S. 

Peer. Appear ; as in iv. 4. 3 below. 

2. Doxy. A cant word = mistress ; used by S. only here. Cf. The 
Roaring Girl: "Sirrah, where 's your doxy?" Coles translates it by 
meretrix. 

4. Pale. Paleness ; with possibly a play upon the other sense =bound, 
limit, Cf. V. and A. 589 : " a sudden pale . . . Usurps her cheek." 

7. Pugging. Thievish ; another cant word. In The Roaring Girl we 
find " puggards " =thieves. 

II. Annts. Equivalent to rt'l^xjj/ above. See examples in Nares. 

13. Three-pile. Rich velvet. It is used as a proper name in M. 
for M. iv. 3. 11: "Master Three-pile, the mercer." Steevens quotes 
Ram Alley, 161 1 : "With black, crimson, and tawny three -pil'd vel- 
vet." 

23. My traffic, etc. " Autolycus means that his practice was to steal 
sheets and large pieces of linen, leaving the smaller pieces for the kites to 
build with" (Mason). These birds are said to carry off small articles of 
linen from the hedges where they are hung to dry, and to use them to line 
their nests. 

25. Under Mercury. In the old mythology, Autolycus was a noted 
thief, son of Mercury^ the god of thieving. 

26. With die and drab, etc. By dicing and drabbing I was brought to 
"these rags" (49 below). 

27. The silly cheat. " Petty thievery " (Schmidt) ; an expression taken 
from the slang of thieves. For silly — ^oox, petty, cf i Hen. VI. ii. 3. 22 : 
" a child, a silly dwarf," etc. 

Gallows and knock, etc. This is in the same vein. He means that the 
risk of the gallows, as well as of the resistance of his victims, deters him 
from highway robbery. 

29. 1 sleep out the thought of it " Exquisitely characteristic of this care- 
less, merry rascal ; and too true, alas ! of thousands of untaught ragamuf- 
fins, whose ignorance is more their hardship than their fault" (Clarke). 
Coleridge remarks : " Fine as this is, and delicately characteristic of one 
who had lived and been reared in the best society, and had been precipi- 
tated from it by dice and drabbing, yet still it strikes against my feelings 
as a note out of tune, and as not coalescing with that pastoral tint which 
gives such a charm to this act. It is too Macbeth-like in the ' snapper-up 
of unconsidered trifles.' " 

31. Every Ueven wether tods. Every eleven wethers yields a tod, or 
twenty-eight pounds of wool. 

32. Pound and odd shillijig. Twenty-one shillings. Ritson cites Staf- 
ford's Breefe Conceipte of English Pollicye, 1581, from which it appears 
that the tod of wool was then worth from twenty to twenty-two shillings. 
The occupation of his father (see M. of V. p. 9) doubtless made the poet 
familiar with these matters. 

34. Springe. Snare. Cf Ham. i. 3. 115: "springes to catch wood- 
cocks." Cock here=woodcock, a proverbial metaphor for a simpleton. 
See Ham. p. 191. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 185 

35. Cotinters. Round pieces of metal used in reckoning. See A. K Z. 
p. 164; and cf. 0th. p. 156, note on Cotinter-caster. 

36. Sheep-shearing feast. The expense of these festivals was the sub- 
ject of contemporary criticism. Steevens quotes Questions of profitable 
and pleasant Concernings, etc., 1594: "If it be a sheep-shearing feast, 
maister Baily can entertaine you with his bill of reckonings to his mais- 
ter of three shepheards wages, spent on fresh cates, besides spices and 
saffron pottage." 

Pound. For the plural, see Rich. II. p. 182. 

39. Lays it on. Cf Temp. iii. 2. 160 : " he lays it on." 

40. Three-man soitgmen. Singers of catches (see T.N. p. 136) in three 
parts. Halliwell, among many illustrations of the expression, cites De- 
loney, Pleasant Hist, of the Gentle Craft, 1598 : "play on the flute and 
beare his part in a three-mans song ;" Harrington, Poems : 

"When these triumvirs set that three-man's song. 
Which stablished in Rome that hellish trinity, 
That all the towne and all the world did wrong ;" 

and Coryat, Crt/dities, 161 1: "That looks asquint upon a three-mans 
song." 

41. Means. Tenors. Cf T. G. of V. i. 2. 95 : "The mean is drown'd 
with your unruly base ;" and Z. Z. Z. v. 2. 328 : 

" nay, he can sing 
A mean most meanly," etc. 

Puritan. On contemptuous allusions to the Puritans, see T. N. p. 139. 

43. Warden pies. Pies made of ivardens, a kind of large pears. They 
were usually baked or roasted. Steevens quotes B. and F., Cnpid's Re- 

^ ' "I would have had him roasted like a warden, 

In brown paper." 

Ben Jonson puns upon the word in his Gypsies Metamorphosed : " A dep- 
uty tart, a church-warden pye." Halliwell adds another capital example 
from Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials : " Quimby, a fellow of the college, 
was imprisoned very strictly in the steeple of New College, and half 
starved with cold and lack of food, and at length died. He was asked 
of his friends what he would eat, who said his stomach was gone for all 
meat, except it were a warden pie. Ye shall have it, quoth they. I 
would have, said he again, but two wardens baked : I mean our warden 
of Oxford and our warden of Winchester — London and More ; for such 
a warden pie might do me and the church good ; whereas other wardens 
of the tree can do ine no good at all. Thus jesting at their tyranny 
through the cheerfulness of a safe conscience, he turned his face to the 
wall in the belfry where he lay, and after his prayers, slept sweetly in 
the Lord." 

44. ^^^'^=list (Schmidt). W. explains oitt of my note as " not among 
the matters of which I am to take note ;" and adds : " S. would not have 
represented a clown in his day reading ; and manuscript, too. Had he 
done so, a shout of laughter, not with hmi but at him, would have gone up 
from even the penny-paying part [see Ham. p. 220, note on Groundlings'\ 
of his audience." There is something in this ; but cf. T. N. v. i. 299. 



1 86 NOTES. 

45. Race. Root. In i Hen. IV. ii. i. 27, we find " two razes of gin- 
ger ;" but it is doubtful whether razes is the same word. 

46. Raisins 0' the sun. That is, dried in the sun ; the only mention of 
raisins in S., though some see a play upon the word and reasons in Much 
Ado, V. I. 211. See our ed. p. 166 ; and cf. the play on beat and bait in 
ii. 3. 91 above. 

48. /' the name of me. Cf before met in 7^. TV! ii. 3. 194 and 0th, iv. 
I. 149. Theo. conjectured " name of the — ;" and some one has sug- 
gested that me — is an interrupted " mercy." 

78. Kills my heart. Cf L. L. L. v. 2. 149 : " Why, that contempt will 
kill the speaker's heart ;" IIe?i. V. ii. i. 92 : " the king hath killed his 
heart," etc. In A. Y. L. iii. 2. 60 we have a play upon the expression. 

83. Troll -my -dames. A corruption of the Fr. trou-7?iada??ie, the name 
of a game resembling the modern bagatelle. It was also known as pigeon- 
holes. Farmer quotes Dr. Jones's Btickstone Bathes: "The ladyes, gen- 
tle woomen, wyves, maydes, if the weather be not agreeable, may have 
in the ende of a benche, eleven holes made, intoo the which to troule pum- 
mits, either wyolent or softe, after their own discretion : the pastyme 
troule in madame is termed." 

88. Mo viore but abide. Only make a temporary stay. Abide seems 
here to imply a transient residence, stay a permanent one. Cf Macb. 
iii. I. 140: "I '11 call upon you straight: abide within," etc. Some 
make no more (5//z'= barely. 

90. Ape-bearer. One who carried about a trained ape as a show. 

91. Compassed a motion. Got possession of a puppet-show. Yox co?ji- 
passed, see IIe7^. V. p. 176 ; and for motion, cf T. G. of V. ii. I. 100 : " O 
excellent motion ! O exceeding puppet !" See also Rani Alley : 

" She 'd get more gold 
Than all the baboons, calves with two tails. 
Or motions whatsoever ;' ' 

and Knave in Graine, 1640, where one of the characters asks, " Where 's 
the dumbe shew you promis'd me.?" and the reply is, "Even ready, my 
lord ; but may be called a motion ; for puppits will speak but such cor- 
rupt language you'll never understand." 

95. Prig. Thief; a slang word still in use. 

105. Pace softly. Walk along slowly. 

107. Bring thee. Accompany thee. See Hen. V. p. 158. 

115. Unrolled. Struck off the roll of thieves. The Coll. MS. has 
" enrolled." 

116. Jog on, etc. The lines are part of a catch in An Antidote against 
Mela7icholy, jnade up iji Pills compounded of witty Ballads, Jovial Songs, 
and merry Catches (Reed). 

117. Hent. Take (literally, lay hold of), clear, pass. CL M.for M. 
iv. 6. 14 : 

"The generous and gravest citizens 
Have hent the gates" 

(that is, gone bevond or outside them). For the noun hent, see Ha77i. 
p. 234. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 187 

Scene IV. — i. Weeds. Garments. See M. N. D. p. 149. 
3. Peering. See on iv. 3. i above. 

5. On V. Cf. i. 2. 196, ii. i. 158, etc., above. 

6. Extreines. Johnson makes this = " the extravagance of your praises." 
Mason objects to this, and explains it as "the extravagance of his con- 
duct," in dressing himself like a swain and her like a goddess. In our 
opinion, both are right. 

It not becomes me. Cf. 401 below : " I not acquaint My father ;" and 
461 : " I not purpose it." Gr. 305. 

8. The gracious mark, etc. " The object of the nation's pride and 
hope " (Clarke). 

9. Wearing. Dress ; as in 0th. iv. 3. 16 : "my nightly wearing." 
\o. Prank' d np. Dressed up, adorned. See 7". A", p. 141. 

11. Mess. See on i. 2. 217 above. 

12. With a custom. From habit, because they are used to it. 

13. Sworn, I thi7ik, etc. This appears to mean, as Malone explained 
it, that the prince, by his swain's wearing, seems as if he had sworn to 
show her a glass in which she might behold how she ought to be attired 
instead of being so pranked up. Cf. J. C. i. 2. 67 : 

"And since you know you cannot see yourself 
So well as by reflection, I, your glass, 
Will modestly discover to yourself 
That of yourself which you yet know not of ;' ' 

and 2 Hen. IV. ii. 3. 22 : 

" he was indeed the glass 
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves." 

Malone cites this latter passage as "in Hamlet,''' from which play he 
might have quoted iii. 4. 19 : 

" You go not till I set you up a glass 
Where you may see the inmost part of you." 

Theo, altered the text to 

"swoon, I think. 
To see myself i' the glass ;" 

but, as Clarke remarks, szvoon "would have an affected and exagger- 
ated sound in the mouth of Perdita, who is composed of simplicity, recti- 
tude, and native dignity." To our thinking, the emendation is ridicu- 
lously out of keeping with the character ; and the others that have been 
proposed are all as bad in their way. If a tithe of the ingenuity that has 
been expended in altering the early text had been devoted to its inter- 
pretation, there would be little room for emendation. In nine cases out 
of ten, the original reading of these much-tinkered passages affords a 
clearer sense than the most plausible of the revampings. We do not 
refer here to obvious errors in the old texts (in correcting which no edi- 
tor has done more good work than Theo.), but to really difficult places, 
or such as at first appear so, like the present ; passages on which almost 
every editor has his own conjecture because no former one seems to him 
worth adopting — any more than his will seem to other editors. 

17. The differeiice forges dread. The difference between your rank and 
mine causes me apprehension. 0\\ forges— i\2Si\t, produce, cf. A. W. i. i. 



1 88 NOTES. 

85 : " The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts ;" Cor. iii. i. 
58 : " What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent," etc. 

22. Vilely bound up. For the figure, cf. R. and J. i. 3. 87 : "This pre- 
cious book of love,, this unbound lover," etc. Johnson criticises the pas- 
sage thus : " It is impossible for any man to rid his mind of his profes- 
sion. The authorship of Shakespeare has supplied him with a metaphor, 
which, rather than he would lose it, he has put with no great propriety 
into the mouth of a country maid. Thinking of his own works, his mind 
passed naturally to the binder. I am glad that he has no hint at an edi- 
tor." It strikes us that the figure might occur to any one familiar with 
books. 

23. Flatmts. Finery; the only instance of the word, or any of its de- 
rivatives, in S. 

24. Apprehend. As Clarke notes, the word combines the idea of " fear, 
dread," referring to the preceding speech, with that of "conceive, enter- 
tain idea of," in connection yN\\\i jollity. 

25. The gods themselves, z\.Q.. Malone cites Greene's novel : "The Gods 
above disdaine not to love women beneath. Phoebus liked Daphne ; 
Jupiter lo ; and why not I then Fawnia } One something inferior to 
these in birth, but far superior to them in beauty ; born to be a shep- 
herdesse, but worthy to be a goddesse ;" and again : " The heavenly gods 
have sometime earthly thought ; Neptune became a ram, Apollo a shep- 
herd : they gods, and yet in love," etc. 

33. So chaste. The transformations of the gods were generally for 
illicit amours. 

40. Or I my life. That is, or I must exchange my life for death. For 
<:/z^?;i;^^ = exchange, cf i. 2. 68 above. The word here is used in a double 
sense, like appre he jzd ]ViSt above. 

41. Forced. Either = false (cf. ii. 3. 78 above) or = far-fetched, out of 
place. 

46. Be merry, gentle. The Coll. MS. has "girl," which Coll. adopts. 
He calls gentle " an epithet that cannot, and never did, stand alone in 
this way, without being followed by maid, lady,'''' etc. See, however, A. 
a7id C. iv. 15. 47 : " Gentle, hear me." 

47. Strangle such thoughts. For the metaphor, cf T. and C. iv. 4. 39 : 
" strangles our dear vows ;" Hen. VIII. v. I. 157 : 

" He has strangled 
His language in his tears," etc. 

50. Nuptial. For the use of the singular, see M. N. D. p. 127, or Temp. 
p. 143 ; and cf J. C. p. 183, note on His funerals. 

51. (9 lady Forttine. Cf Temp. i. 2. 179 : 

"bountiful Fortune, 
Now my dear lady;" 

A. V. L. ii. 7. 16 : " And rail'd on Lady Fortune," etc. 

53. Sprightly. Adjectives in -ly are very often used as adverbs. We 
find " sprightly walking " in Cor. iv. 5. 237, where most modern eds. read 
" sprightly, waking." 
.56. Pantler. The servant who had charge of the pantry. CL2Hen, 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 189 

IV. ii. 4, 258 : "a' would have made a good pantler, a' would have chip- 
ped bread well." Cf. 342 in same scene, and see also Cymb.u. 3. 129. 

60. On his shoulder, and his. That is, leaning" over to serve them. 

61. With labour, etc. The folio points the passage thus : 

"her face o' fire 
With labour, and the thing she tooke to quench it 
She would to each one sip." 

The Camb. ed. reads : 

" her face o' fire 
With labour and the thing she took to quench it, 
She would to each one sip;" 

and most of the other eds. give it in essentially the same way. We fol- 
low W. as being more in keeping with the context. The shepherd does 
not mean that his wife drank so much as to increase the fire in her face ; 
but that even when taking a draught to cool herself she did not forget 
her duty to her guests. 

65. These nnJmown friends to us. These friends unknown to us. See 
Gr, 4i9«. 

74. Rosemary and rite. For the former, as the symbol of remem- 
brance, see Ham. p. 250 ; and for the latter, as the " herb of grace,^'' see 
Ham. p. 251. 

79. Ancient. Old. Cf "ancient sir" in 350 below, and "ancientry" 
in iii. 3. 62 above. 

82. Carnations. The only mention of the flower in S., though we 
have the colour in L. L. L. iii. I. 146 ("a carnation ribbon") and Hen. 

V. ii. 3. 35 (" a' could never abide carnation "). For the accepted deri- 
vation of the name, see Wb. ; but the old spelling "coronation" ren- 
ders it probable that it comes from the Latin corona, as being a favourite 
flower for garlands. Pliny gives a long list of " coronamentorum gene- 
ra," or kinds of garland-flowers. Cf Spenser, Shep. Kal. April : 

" Bring hether the Pincke and purple Cullambine, 

With Gelliflowres; 
Bring Coronations, and Sops in wine, 

Worne of Paramoures : 
Strowe me the ground with Daffadowndillies, 
And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and loved Lillies: 

The pretie Pawnee, 

And the Chevisaunce, 
Shall match with the fay re flowre Delice." 

In Lyte's Herbal, 1578, we also find "coronations or cornations." 

Gillyvors. The folio spells it " Gilly-vors ;" and other old forms (see 
Wb.) 2irQ gilover ^nd gilofer. The word is from the Yx. giroflee, and is 
not a compound oi flower. It was only another name for the carnation, 
or a variety of that flower ; and " sops-in-wine " (see quotation from 
Spenser above) was another, from the use of the flowers for flavouring 
wine and beer. 

86. For. Because ; as in iii. 3. 32 above. Douce explains Perdita's dis- 
like for the flower as follows : " The gillyflower or carnation is streaked, 
as every one knows, with white and red. In this respect it is a proper 
emblem oi 2^ painted or immodest woman ; and therefore Perdita declines 



I90 NOTES. 

to meddle with it. Slie connects the gardener's art of varying the col- 
ours of the flowers with the art of painting the face, a fashion very prev- 
alent in Shakespeare's time. This conclusion is justified by what she 
says in her next speech but one." 

^'j. Piedness. Variegation. CLpied in L. L. L. v. 2. 904 : " when daisies 
pied and violets blue," etc. 

89. Mean. For the singular, see R. and J. p. 189. 

92. Yoit see, sweet maid, we marry, etc. Shakespeare was evidently a 
good gardener, and we doubt not that his grounds at New Place were as 
well kept as they are now that they have been rescued from their long 
desecration and made one of the most attractive spots in Stratford^ — 
though we wish that the gardening were in the style of his time rather 
than of our own. 

Ellacombe remarks : " There are a great many passages scattered 
throughout his works, some of them among the most beautiful that he 
ever wrote, in which no particular tree, herb, or flower is mentioned by 
name, but which show his intimate knowledge of plants and gardening, 
and his great affection for them. It is from these passages, even more 
than from those in which particular flowers are named, that we learn 
how thoroughly his early country life had permanently marked his char- 
acter, and how his whole spirit was most naturally coloured by it. Num- 
berless allusions to flowers and their culture prove that his boyhood and 
early manhood were spent in the country, and that as he passed through 
the parks, fields, and lanes of his native county, or spent pleasant days 
in the gardens and orchards of the manor-houses and farm-houses of the 
neighbourhood, his eyes and ears were open to all the sights and sounds 
of a healthy country life, and he was, perhaps unconsciously, laying up 
in his memory a goodly store of pleasant pictures and homely country 
talk, to be introduced in his own wonderful way in tragedies and come- 
dies, which, while often professedly treating of very different times and 
countries, have really given us some of the most faithful pictures of the 
country life of the Englishman of Queen Elizabeth's time, drawn with all 
the freshness and simplicity that can only come from a real love of the 
subject. ' Flowers I noted,' is his own account of himself [Sonn. 99), 
and with what love he noted them, and with what careful fidelity he wrote 
of them, is shown in every play he published, and almost in every act and 
every scene. His general descriptions, like his notices of particular 
flowers, are never laboured, or introduced as for a purpose, but each 
passage is the simple utterance of his ingrained love of the country, the 
natural outcome of a keen, observant eye, joined to a great power of 
faithful description and an unlimited command of the fittest language. 
It is this vividness and freshness that give such a reality to all Shake- 
speare's notices of country life, and which make them such pleasant 
reading to all lovers of plants and gardening." 

For the allusion to graftmg here, cf A.W.'\. 2. 54, Hen. V. iii. 5. 5, Cor. 
ii. I. 206, etc. 

100. Dibble. An implement for piercing holes in the earth for slips or 
young plants. 

104. Lavender, tnints, and savory are mentioned by S. only here ; mar- 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. i^i 

joram (the " sweet marjoram," or Origanum inarjorana, as is evident from 
the passages in A. W. and Lea7') we find also in Sonn. 99. 7, A. W. iv. 5. 
17, and Lear, iv. 6. 94. 

105. Mai-igold. Not the sun-flower, as some have made it ; nor the 
"marsh marigold" {Caltha pahistris),\iV\Q\\ does not open and close its 
flowers with the sun; but probably the "garden marigold" {Calendula 
officinalis), of which Ellacombe says : " It was always a great favourite in 
our forefathers' gardens, and it is hard to give any reason why it should 
not be so in ours. Yet it has been almost completely banished, but may 
often be found in the gardens of cottages and old farm-houses, where it is 
still prized for its bright and almost everlasting flowers (looking very 
like a Gazania) and evergreen tuft of leaves, while the careful housewife 
still picks and carefully stores the petals of the flowers, and uses them in 
broths and soups, believing them to be of great efficacy, as Gerarde said 
they were, 'to strengthen and comfort the heart.' The two properties of 
the marigold — that it was always in flower, and that it turned its flowers 
to the sun and followed his guidance in their opening and shutting — 
made it a very favourite flow^er with the poets and emblem writers. . . . 
It was the ' heliotrope ' or ' solsequium ' or ' turnesol ' of our forefathers, 
and is often alluded to under those names." 

Of the contemporary allusions to the flower, the following from With- 
ers is a good example : 

"When with a serious musing I behold 
The grateful and obsequious Marigold, 
How duly every morning she displays 
Her open breast when Phoebus spreads his rays ; 
How she observes him in his daily walk, 
Still bending towards him her small, slender stalk ; 
How when he down declines she droops and mourns, 
Bedewed, as 't were, with tears till he returns ; 
And how she veils her flowers when he is gone: 
When this I meditate, methinks the flowers 
Have spirits far more generous than ours, 
And give us fair examples to despise 
The servile fawnings and idolatries 
Wherewith we court these earthly things below, 
Which merit not the service we bestow." 

1 10. Onf,alas! A more emphatic alas! Cf. M. ^ i. 4. 37, iv. 5. 64, 
i?. a7id y. iv. 5. 24, 0th. v. 2. 1 19, etc. So out, alack ! in So7in. 33. 11, etc. 

116. Maidenheads. Maidenhood, ^ee R.ajtd J. ^. l^^o. 

Proserpina. Cf. T. and C. ii. I. 37: "thou art as full of envy at his 
greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina's beauty," etc. 

118. Dis''s waggon. Pluto's chariot. For Dis, cf. Temp. iv. I. 89 : " The 
means that dusky Dis my daughter got," etc.; and for waggon, see the 
description of Queen Mab's chariot in R. and J. i. 4. 59 fol. Cf. A. IV. iv. 
4. 34, where Helena says " Our waggon is prepar'd." Halliwell quotes 
Barnes, Divils Charter, 1607 : 

"From the pale horror of eternall fire 
Am I sent with the wagon of blacke Dis." 

The description of Proserpina here is taken from Ovid, Met. v. : 



192 NOTES. 

"lit summa vestem laxavit ab ora 
Collecti flores tunicis cecidere remissis;" 

thus translated by Golding : 

"And as she from the upper part her garment would have rent, 
By chance she let her lap slip downe, and out the flowers went." 

Daffodils. See on iv. 3. i above ; and cf. the quotation from Spenser 
in note on 82 above, where they are called " daffadowndillies." This form 
of the name, now retained only in the language of children and their 
classic Mother Goose, was then common in poetry. Cf. Constable's 

" Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly, 
White as the sun, fair as the lily, 

Heigh ho! how I do love thee!" 

To fill out the measure, Hanmer read "early daffodils." Coleridge re- 
marks : " An epithet is wanted here, not merely or chiefly for the metre, 
but for the balance, for the aesthetic logic. Perhaps golden was the word 
which would set off the violets dim.'''' 

120. Violets dim. The violet is alluded to so often by S. that we need 
not refer to the passages. Dim is explained by Schmidt as " wanting 
beauty, homely ;" which seems to make a stronger contrast than the 
poet probably intended. The meaning is not expressed by saying that 
the violet is homely but fragrant. It is called dim, we think, because it 
is not a brilliant or showy flower, but " half hidden from the eye " even 
when in full view ; and we suspect that sweeter implies both loveliness 
and perfume. The reference to the lids of Juno's eyes has puzzled the 
commentators. They have even been driven to supposing that S. alluded 
to the Oriental practice of giving the eyelids "an obscure violet colour by 
means of some unguent, which was doubtless perfumed" — a sort of paint- 
ing which both Perdita and he would have been disgusted at. We have 
no doubt that the " blue-veined violets " ( V. and A. 125) are compared to 
the lids 

"white and azure lac'd 
With blue of heaven's own tinct" {Cymb. ii. 2. 22); 

for, as we have elsewhere shown {R. and J. p. 172, note on Grey eye), the 
" windows " thus described, like those in V. and A. 482, are the eyelids, not 
the eyes. The violets, Perdita says, are lovelier than the lids of Juno's 
eyes and more fragrant than Cytherea's breath. For two pages of irrel- 
evant comment on the passage, see the Var. of 1821. The critics have 
picked the exquisite simile to pieces, like botanists analyzing a flower, 
but have not got at the secret of its beauty and sweetness. 

For Cytherea, cf. the charming " picture " in T. of S. ind. 2. 52 : 

"Adonis painted by a running brook, 
And Cytherea all in sedges hid, 
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, 
Even as the waving sedges play with wind." 

See also Cymb. ii. 2. 14. 

122. Pale primroses. Cf. 2 Hen. F7. iii. 2. 63 : "Look pale as prim- 
rose, with blood-drinking sighs " (see M. N. D. p. 163, note on That costs 
the fresh blood dear) ; and Cymb. iv. 2. 221 : " The flower that 's like thy 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. ic,^ 

face, pale piimrose." On the next two lines, cf. Milton, Lycidas, 142 : 
"Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies;" and Oji the Death of a 
Fair Infajit : 

" O fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
Soft silken Primrose fading timelessly, 
Summer's chief honour if thou hadst outlasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossoms dry." 

125. Bold oxlips. Hanmer changed boldio " gold ;" but Steevens says, 
" The oxHp has not a weak flexible stem like the cotoslip, but erects itself 
boldly in the face of the sun." See M. N. D. p. 149, note on Oxlips. 

126. The croivn imperial. TYxt Fritillaria i7)iperialis ; a native of the 
East, but early introduced from Constantinople into England, where it 
soon became a favourite. Chapman, in 1595, spoke of it as " Fair Crown 
Imperial, Emperor of flowers." Cf Va.x\6\-\?,o\\, Faradisiis Terrestris : 
"The Crown Imperial for its stately beautifulnesse deserveth the first 
place in this our garden of delight, to be here entreated of before all other 
Lillies." Gerard thus describes a peculiarity of the flower : " In the bot- 
tome of each of the bells there is placed six drops of most cleere shining 
sweet water, in taste like sugar, resembling in shew faire Orient pearles, 
the which drops, if you take away, there do immediately appeare the like ; 
notwithstanding, if they may be suffered to stand still in the floure accord- 
ing to his owne nature, they will never fall away, no, not if you strike the 
plant untill it be broken." Ellacombe adds : " There is a pretty German 
legend vyhich tells how the flower was originally white and erect, and 
grew in its full beauty in the garden of Gethsemane, where it was often 
noticed and admired by our Lord ; but in the night of the agony, as he 
passed through the garden, all the other flowers bowed their heads in 
sorrowful adoration, the Crown Imperial alone remaining with its head 
unbowed — but not for long ; sorrow and shame took the place of pride, 
she bent her proud head, and blushes of shame and tears of sorrow soon 
followed, and so she has ever continued, with bent head, blushing colour, 
and ever-flowing tears." The legend may be found in full in Good Words 
for the Yotmg,h.\x<g. 1870. 

127. The fioiver-de-hice. d. IIen.V.v.2.22^: " What sayest thou, my 
fair flower-de-luce V See also i Hen. VI. i. i. 80, i. 2. 99, and 2 Hen. VI. 
V. I. II. It is disputed whether the poet's flower here is a lily or an iris. 
Ellacombe quotes St. Francis de Sales (contemporary with S.), who says : 
" Charity comprehends the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, and resem- 
bles a beautiful flower de-luce, which has six leaves whiter than snow, 
and in the middle the pretty little golden hammers ;" a description which 
better fits the white lily than the iris. So Chaucer seems to connect the 
flower with the lily : " Her nekke was white as the Flour de Lis." On 
the other hand, see the quotation from Spenser in note on 82 above, 
where he seems to separate the lilies from the " flowre Delice." See also 
Bacon, Ess. 46 : " Flower Delices, & Lillies of all Natures." In heraldry 
also, the fleur-de-lis and the lily are distinct bearings. The botanical 
writers, from Turner (1568) down to Miller (1731), also identify the flow- 
er with the iris, and with this judgment most of the recent writei's agree. 
That S. should class it among the lilies need not trouble us, for botanidal 

N 



194 NOTES. 

classification was not very accurate in his day, and he does not appear to 
have had a scientific knowledge of the subject. 

129. Corse. S. uses both corse and corpse (see v. i. 58 below), though 
the former more frequently. 

132. Quick, and in mine arms. For quick ---2\\\^, see Hen. V. p. 156 or 
Ham. p. 262. On the passage, cf. Per. v. 3. 43 : 

" O come, be buried 
A second time within these arms ;"' 

and see Much Ado, p. 144, note on Face upwards. 

134. Whitsun pastorals. Cf. Hen. V. ii. 4. 25 : "a Whitsun morris- 
dance." For a full account of Whitsunday sports and festivities in 
the olden time, see Douce's Illustrations or Brande's Popular Antiqui- 
ties. 

142. Move still, still so. "The iteration oi still in the peculiar way that 
S. has used it conjoinedly with the two monosyllables tnove and jc", gives 
the musical cadence, the alternate rise and fall, the to-and-fro undulation of 
the water — the swing of the wave — with an eff"ect upon the ear that only 
a poet gifted with a fine perception would have thought of" (Clarke). 

143. Each your doing, etc. Your manner in each act, so unparalleled in 
each particular, crowns the act, so that it becomes queenly._ For queens, 
Sr. reads " queen's " = a queen's acts ; but the original reading carries out 
the bold metaphor more consistently. The acts are crowned, and them- 
selves become qtieens. 

148. So fairly. The 1st and 2d folios read " peepes fairely through 't," 
the later ones changing "peepes" to "peeps." Capell inserted the so, 
which is nearer to the original than Hannier's "forth." St. conjectures 
" through it fairly peeps," and the " Globe " ed. has " peepeth." 

149. Give you out. Shows you ; as in T. N. iii. 4. 203 : "the behaviour 
of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity," etc. 

152. Skill. " Reason, motive ; or rather a thought caused by consid- 
eration and judgment " (Schmidt). Halliwell quotes Warner, Albiojts 
England, 1606: " Our Queene deceast conceald her heire, I wot not for 
what skill." Clarke thinks skill is -design, intention. Cf. ii. i. 155 
above. 

153. To put you to '/. See on i. 2. 16 above. 

154. Turtles. Turtle doves ; the only meaning of the word in S. Cf. 
V. 3. 132 below. 

156. This is, etc. See p. 20 above. 

157. Seems. The Coll. MS. has "says," which W. adopts; but no 
change is called for. Nothing she does or seems— \\o\\\m% in her actions 
or her appearance. 

160. Makes her blood look out. That is, makes her blush. Cf 148 
above. The folios have "look on 't ;" corrected by Theo. The Coll. 
MS. gives " wakes her blood ; look on 't." 

Good sooth. In good sooth, in very truth. Cf. sooth in 336 below; and 
see M.N. D. p. 153. 

162. Garlic. Cf. M. N. D. iv. 2. 43 : "And, most dear actors, eat no 
onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath," etc. 



AC 2^ IV. SCEATE IV. ic^^ 

163. In good time. As Schmidt notes, equivalent to the Fr. a la bonne 
heui-e, and used either to denote simple assent or, as here, to express con- 
tempt or indignation. Cf. Ot/i. i. i. 32 : " He, in good time, must his 
lieutenant be," etc. 

168. Ajid boasts. Rowe gave "and he^ boasts," and Capell "he 
boasts ;" but the ellipsis is not uncommon. See Gr. 399. 

169. But I have it, etc. Abbott (Gr. 128) says that htt is perhaps^: 
" only ;" that is, " I have it merely on his own report, and I believe it too." 
" I but have it" and " I have it but" have been proposed as emendations. 
It seems to us, however, that with this sense of but it would be more 
natural to say "■ bnt I believe it." W. says : "The word here seems not 
to be the but ((^^-w//) = except ; it is rather the but (from botan — to super- 
add) which is nearly equivalent to and, and which of old was much used 
where we would now use that conjunction." But, as Wedgwood remarks, 
this distinction of Home Tooke's between the two bnts^is "wholly un- 
tenable." It is also rejected by Prof Mahn in Wb., and by Skeat in his 
new Etymological Diet. We may perhaps explain the but here by taking 
the words that follow as an emphatic addition to what precedes : he 
boasts that he has a good farm ; but as I have his word for it I believe 
him, for he looks truthful. Or we may say it is one of those cases in 
which an intermediate thought is " understood " but not expressed : he 
boasts of his farm ; [a mere boast, you may say] but I have his word for 
it, etc. See on iv. 2. 41 above. 

A worthy feeding — a valuable pasturage. Cf. the use of feeder = 
shepherd, in A. Y. L. ii. 4. 99. 

171. Sooth. Truth. See on 160 above, and cf, M. of V. p. 127, 

175. Who loves another. Which loves the other. See on iii. 3. 20 above. 

Featly. _ Dexterously, neatly. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 380 : " Foot it featly ;" and 
see note in our ed. p. 120. 

180. Not. For the transposition, cf 401 and 461 below, Gr. 305, 

184. Tell. Count. See Temp. p. 123. 

191, Milliner. " In the time of our author, and long afterwards, the 
trade of a milliner was carried on by men " (Malone). Cf. i Hen. IV. i. 
3. 36: " He was perfumed like a milliner." 

193. Dildos. A common word in the burden of old ballads. Steevens 
cites one entitled The Batchelor's Feast: " With a hie dildo dill ;" and 
Malone adds from Choice Drollery, 1656: 

" With a dildo, dildo, dildo. 
With a dildo, dildo, dee." 

Fading (mentioned by B. J. as an Irish dance) was similarly used ; as in 
a song quoted by Malone : " With a fading, with a fading," etc. 

194. Stretch-mouthed. Open-mouthed, broad-spoken. 

195. Gap. The Coll. MS. has "jape " (=jest), which W. adopts, with 
the remark that the word was often spelt gape, though pronounced y^z/^. 
But gap may be = break, or flaw. Cf. Macb. iii. i. 12 and Lear, i, 2. 91. 
Puttenham, in his Arte of Poesie, uses the word for "parenthesis," 

196. W/ioop, do me no hai'm,good man. The name of an old song. In 
the Hist, of Friar Bacon, we have a ballad to the tune of" Oh ! do me no 
harme, good man " (Farmer). 



196 



NOTES. 



199. Brave. Fine, capital. See M.of V. p. 154. 

201. Unbraided. " Perhaps=not counterfeit, sterling, but probably the 
clown's blunder for embroidered'" (Schmidt). Bailey, in his Bict.,g\MQS 
braided— idided ; and Steevens quotes Atiy Thing for a Quiet Life : " She 
says that you sent ware which is not warrantable, braided ware, and that 
you give not London measure." Bi'aid is=deceitful, in A. W. iv. 2. 73 : 
" Since Frenchmen are so braid," etc. Halliwell quotes Marston, Scourge 
of Villanie, sat. v.: "Glased his braided ware, cogs, sweares, and lies ;" 
and An Iliad of Metamorphosis, 1600: 

'' Books of this nature being once perused 
Are then cast by, and as brayed ware refused." 

203. Points. Tagged laces, used to fasten parts of the dress, especially 
the breeches. See T.N. p. 128, note on If one break. Here there is a 
play upon the word. 

204. Inkles. A kind of tape. Cf Z. Z. Z. iii. 1.140: "What 's the 
price of this inkle ?" and Per. v. prol. 8 : " Her inkle, silk, twin with the 
rubied cherry." The word must have been still in use in England half a 
century ago, as Nares and the Var. of 182 1 do not explain it. 

Caddisses. " Worsted ribbands" (Schmidt), or what we call " galloons." 
Cf I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 79 : " caddis-garter." Shirley, in his Witty Fair One, 
1633, mentions "footmen in caddis;" that is, having.their liveries trim- 
med with caddis. 

207. Sleeve-band. Wristband, or cuff. Cotgrave defines Poignet de la 
chemise as "the sleeve-band of a shirt." Toilet cites Leland, Collecta- 
nea : " A sur-coat of crimson velvet — the coller, skirts, and sleeve-bands 
garnished with ribbons of gold." 

208. Square. Bosom. Cf Fairfax, Tasso, xii. 64 : 

"Between her breasts the cruel weapon rives 
Her curious square, emboss' d with swelling gold." 

The square form of the plaiting is seen in paintings of the time. 

212. You have of. You have some of, there are some of For the 
partitive of cf A. IV. ii. 5. 50 : " I have kept of them tame," etc. See 
also Or. 177. 

214. Go about. Am going, intend. See M. N D. p. 177, and cf 683 
below. 

216. Cyprus . Crape. See T. N. p. 148, note on Cypress. ^ 

217. Gloves, etc. The practice of perfuming gloves is again referred to 
in Much Ado, iii. 4. 62 : " These gloves the count sent me ; they are an 
excellent perfume." 

219. Necklace amber, etc. Autolycus is puffing his female wares, and 
says that he has some necklace-amber, an amber of which necklaces were 
made, commonly called bead-amber, fit to perfume a lady's chamber. 
Milton alludes to the perfume of amber in S. A. 720: "An amber scent 
of odorous perfume" (T. Warton). 

221. Quoifs. Caps, head-dresses. Cf 2 Hen. IV. i. i. 147: "and 
hence, thou sickly quoif!" 

223. Poking- sticks. These were small rods which were heated and 
used for adjusting the plaits of ruffs, etc. Steevens cites, among other 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. icjy 

references to them, Middleton's Bhirt Master Constable, 1602: "Your 
ruff must stand in print, and for that purpose get poking-sticks with fair 
long handles, lest they scorch your hands." Stubbes, in his Anatomie of 
Abuses, describes them as "made of yron and Steele, and some of brasse, 
kept as bright as silver, yea some of silver itselfe, and it is well if in proc- 
esse of time they grow not to be of gold . . . and when they come to 
starching and setting of their ruffes, then must this instrument be heated 
in the fire, the better to stiffen the ruffe," etc. 

238. Kiln-hole. The mouth of the oven (Malone and Schmidt), or the 
opening for putting fuel under a stove or furnace (Steevens). Harris 
says that "in the Midland counties it generally means the fire-place used 
in making malt, and is still a noted gossiping-place." 

239. Whistle off. The folio has "whistle of;" and the Coll. MS. gives 
"whisper off." Schmidt considers -whistle the clown's blunder for " whis- 
per." We do not see why it may not be his metaphorical use of the fal- 
coner's whistle <?^(=send off), for which see 0th. p. 188. 

240. Charm yonr tongues. Hanmer's emendation of the " clamor yonr 
tongues" of the folios. Various other readings have been proposed, and 
sundry awkward attempts have been made to explain the early text. For 
charm yo7ir tongues (=:check or restrain them as by a charm or spell), see 
0th. p. 207. _S. uses the phrase five times (not counting the present pas- 
sage), and it is common in contemporary writers. 

242. A tawdry-lace. A rustic necklace. Cf. Spenser, Shep. Kal. Apr. : 

"Binde your fillets faste. 
And gird in your waste. 
For more finenesse, with a tawdrie lace ;" 

and Fletcher, Faithful Shep. iv. i : " The primrose chaplet, tawdry lace, 
and ring." Tawdry is a corruption of Saint Audrey, or Ethelreda, on 
whose day (Oct. 17) a fair was held in the Isle of Ely, and probably at 
other places, at which gay toys of all kinds were sold. Nicholas Harps- 
field, in his Hist. Eccles. Angl., says that St. Audrey died of a swelling in 
the throat, which she considered a special judgment for having been ad- 
dicted to wearing fine necklaces in her youth. He describes the tawdry 
lace thus : " Solent Angliae nostrae mulieres torquem quendam, ex tenui 
et subtili serica confectum, collo gestare ; quam Ethelredae torquem ap- 
pellamus, forsan in ejus quod diximus niemoriam." The word tawdjy 
came to be used as a noun in this sense. Cf. Drayton, Polyolbion, ii. : 

" Of which the Naiads and the bkie Nereids make 
Them taudries for their necks;" 

and Id. iv. : " But with white pebbles makes her taudries for her neck." 
250. Of charge. Of importance or value. See R. and J. p. 213. 
252. C life. "O' my life" {M.W.\. 1.40), or "on my life" (v. 1.43 
below). The folio has "a life," and in many other passages it has the 
same corruption ; as in R. and J. i. i. i : "A my word" (also in T of S. 
i. 2. 108, Cor. i. 3. 62, etc.) ; R. and J. i. 3. 93 : "A plague a both the 
Houses," etc. So the early eds. have almost always "a clock;" as in 
Much Ado, iii. 4. 52 (ist folio) : " fine a clocke," etc. Halliwell explains 
"a life" (or "o' life") as = as my life; and, among other examples of 



1 98 NOTES. 

the phrase, he cites The Reiurne frojn Parnassus, 1606 : " One that loves_ 
a-life a short sermon and a long play," etc.; and lie of Gulls, 1633 : " I 
love em [cherries] a-life too." This meaning might naturally enough 
grow out of the other, the oath coming to be used as a mere intensive. 

255. Carbonadoed. Cut in slices and prepared for broiling. Cf. A. W. 
iv. 5. 107 : "your carbonadoed face" (that is, cut or hacked) ; and Lear, 
ii. 2. 41 : " draw, you rogue, or I '11 so carbonado your shanks." We find 
the noun (=steak or cutlet) in i Hen. IV, v. 3. 61 and Cor. iv. 5. 199-.. . 

259. Bless me from, etc. God preserve me from, etc. Cf. Lear, iii. 4. 
60 : " Bless thee from whirlwinds, star-blasting, and taking ! " and see Id. 
iv. 1.60. We have the full expression in Mtich Ado,\. i. 145: "God 
bless me from a challenge ! " T. and C. ii. 3. 32 : " heaven bless thee from 
a tutor," etc. 

261. Moe. More. See ^. K Z. p. 176. 

263. Of a fish, etc. In 1604 the following entry was made on the Sta- 
tioners' Registers : " A strange reporte of a monstrous fish that appeared 
in the form of a woman, from her waist upward, seene in the sea." To 
this S. may allude here (Malone). Halliwell states that in the Ashmolean 
Museum, at Oxford, a ballad is preserved with the title : "A description 
of a strange and miraculous fish, cast upon the sands, ... to the tune of 
Bragandary." The following is a stanza from it : 

"A man on horseback, as tis try'd, 

May stand within his moutli : 
Let none that hears it this deride. 

For tis confirm' d for truth, 
By those who dare avouch the same ; 
Then let the writer beare no blame." 

Several other of these " fish-stories" in verse have come down to our day. 
One of them is entitled " The discription of a rare or rather most mon- 
strous fishe, taken on the east cost of Holland the xvij. of November, 
anno 1566." 

275. Passing. Surpassingly, exceedingly. See A.Y. L. p. 184. 

283. Have at it. I '11 begin it, or try it. Cf. Cymb. v. 5. 315 : " Have 
at it "then" (=1 '11 tell my story), etc. 

301. Sad. Serious. See Much Ado, p. 121. 

313. Money 's a meddler. That is, it has dealings with any thing. Cf. 
the use oi meddle— \v3mq. to do (see T. N. p. 152). 

314. Utter. Cause to pass from one hand to another. See R. and J. 
p. 212. 

315. Carters. Changed by Theo. to "goatherds," on account of the 
" four threes of herdsmen'" in 325 below ; but Clarke thus shrewdly de- 
fends the old reading : " The farm-servant knows precisely what are the 
several callings of the rustics who personate these men of hair, and desig- 
nates them specially ; but the king, hearing chiefly the repetition words, 
shepherds, neat-herds, and szvine-herds, speaks of the whole twelve as 
'these four threes oi herdsmen.'' '''' 

317. Men of hair. That is, dressed up in goatskins, to represent satyrs, 
or what the servant blunderingly calls saltiers. A dance of satyrs was no 
unusual entertainment in that day. Froissart tells of one in which the 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. l^^ 

King of France and some of his nobles took part, and narrowly escaped 
being burned to death ; the hairy dress of one of the dancers taking fire 
from a candle, and the flames spreading to those about him. 

318. Gallimaufry. Medley, hotchpotch. Cf. M. IV. ii. I. 119: "He 
loves the gallimaufry" (Pistol's speech). 

324. You weary those that refresh us. You tire these people who exert 
themselves for our amusement, Clarke makes weary— \S.\t them "by 
keeping them waiting outside," 

328. Squire. Square (Fr. esquierre), or foot-rule. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 
474 : " Do not you know my lady's foot by the squire V and i Hen. IV. 
ii. 2. 13 : "four foot by the squire." 

ZZ'i- At door. Cf. 693 below: "at palace," Gr. 90. 

332. O, father, etc. Said in reply to something the shepherd has asked 
him during the dance (Mason). 

_ 334. He 'j simple, and tells mtich. " These few words show that the 
king has been cross-questioning the old shepherd as he proposed, and 
with the success he then anticipated" (Clarke). Cf. iv. 2. 44 above. 

337. Handed. Was hand in hand with, devoted myself to (Schmidt). 
Clarke thinks it also implies that Florizel still has Perdita by the hand 
(see 154 above). 

338. She. Cf. 7:^.1.5.259: "the cruellest she alive;" and see A. 
V. Z. p. 170. Gr. 224. 

A1^«^/^i-=knick-knacks ; as in T. of S. iv. 3. 167: "a knack, a toy, a 
trick, a lady's cap," etc. See also 417 below. 

341. Marted. Marketed, traded. Cf. y. C. iv. 3. 11 : "To sell and 
mart your offices for gold," etc. 

343. Straited. Put into a strait ; used by S. only here. 

350. Ancient sir. See on i. 2. 202 and iii. 3. 62 above. 

351. I take this hand, ^ic. See p. 20 above. 

353. The fann'd snoiv, etc. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 141 : 

"That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, 
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow 
. When thou hold'st up thy hand." 

356. The hand was fair. For the ellipsis of the relative, see Gr. 244. 

372. Take hands. For the formal betrothal. See on i. 2. 104 above. 

379. Contract. Often used with reference to this ceremony. See T'.iV. 
p. 166. 

384. Nuptial. See on 50 above. 

1%%. Rhejims. Rheumatism. Cf. yl/./^r Af. iii. i. 31 : "Do curse the 
gout, serpigo, and the rheum," etc. 

389. Dispute. Discuss, reason upon. Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 220 : " Dispute 
it like a man," etc. ^J•/^^'d'= state, condition (see M. of V.p. 151) ; or 
" interest, affairs" (Schmidt), as in T.ofA.v. i. 44, etc. Cf Iv. and y. iii. 
3. 63 : " Let me dispute with thee of thy estate." 

395. Reason my son, etc. There is reason that, it is reasonable that, etc. 
For the ellipsis, cf. K. John, v. 2. 130 : " and reason too he should," etc. 

401. I not acquaint. See on 180 above. 

406. Divorce. Separation; as in C. of E. i. i. 105: "this unjust di- 
vorce of us," etc. 



200 iVOTES. 

409. Affects. The folio reading, changed by Pope to " affect'st ;" bm 
in verbs ending with -t this form of the second person appears to have 
been often used for euphony. See Gr. 340. 

A,\2. Of force. Of necessity. See y^/. i\^. Z>. p. 161. The ist folio has 
" whom ;" corrected in the 2d. 

413. Cop'' St zvitk. Meetest with, hast to do with. See Ham. p. 222. 

415. Fo7ic/-. Foolish (cf. iv. i. 18 above) ; or the meanings of j///j/-and 
doting may be blended, as in M. N. D. ii. 2. 88 and iii. 2. 114. 

417. Knack. Plaything. See on 338 above. The folios have "shalt 
never see." 

420. Far. The folios have " farre " = the Old English /^r;-^. Cf. Chau- 
cer, C. T. 48: "And therto had he ridden, no man ferre ;" Id. 2062: 
"Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre," etc. W. prints "far'r." Cf. 
near—\-\t2atx, in Rich. II. iii. 2. 64, v. i. 88 and Macb. ii. 3. 146. See Gr. 
478, On Deucalion, cf. Cor. ii. i. 102. 

423. Dead. Deadly ; as in K. John, v. 7. 65 : " these dead news," etc. 

428. Hoop. Pope's correction of the " hope" of the folios. 

430. Eveji here undone, etc. See p. 20 above. 

431. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid. See Macb. 
p. 163. 

435. Looks on alike. Sr. adopts Hunter's suggestion of "on all." 
" On both" and "on 's" have also been proposed ; but no change is nec- 
essary. It does not differ essentially from look ^;/=be a looker-on, which 
is still good English. We say now " I stood looking on" {T. ofS. i. i. 155), 
though we have ceased to use look upon in the same way ; as in 7^ aiid 
C. v. 6. 10: " He is my prize ; I will not look upon ;" 3 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 27 : 
"And look upon, as if the tragedy 
Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors," etc. 

See also v. 3. 100 below. D. says that these passages are "not akin" to 
the present. But look upon as there used implies an object as it does 
here ; the only difference being that in the one case the omission of the 
object is the rule, while in the other it is the exception. S. takes the lib- 
erty of making the exception, as he often does in such cases. 

Will ''t please yoii, sir, be gone ? Coleridge remarks : " O how more than 
exquisite is this whole speech ! — And that profound nature of noble pride 
and grief venting themselves in a momentary peevishness of resentment 
towards Florizel : ' Will 't please you, sir, be gone V " 

438. Queen it. The expression occurs again in Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 37. 
Cf. M.for M. iii. 2. 100 : " Lord Angelo dukes it well ;" Cymb. iii. 3. 85 : 
" to prince it," etc. Gr. 226. 

441. Nor dare to knozu, etc. "By such quiet by-touches as this S. 
teaches morality, and not by parading lessons. Had the old shepherd 
had moral courage to speak out that which he knows, to declare simply 
that Perdita is none of his daughter, no shepherd's child, but an infant 
found with certain writings and rich belongings, he would have been 
spared the fears he here expresses. But S. not only thus instils moral 
precept ; he also, as a dramatist, makes his characters act characteristi- 
cally, and thereby fulfils the art-necessity of protracting the final evolve- 
ment of his plot" (Clarke). 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 20 T 

444. To die Jipon the bed my father died. That is, 7ipon which my 
father died. Cf. M. of V. iv. i. 389 : " a gift ... of all he dies possess'd ;" 
Hen. VIII. i. I. 196 : 

"I do pronounce him in that very shape 
He shall appear in proof," etc. 
See Gr. 394. 
446. Hangman. Executioner. See Mach. p. 190. 
And lay me, etc. That is, bury me beneath the gallows, with no 
funereal service. It used to be a part of the service for the priest to throw 
earth upon the body. 
- 448. Adventure. Venture. See on ii. 3. 162 above. 

454. Plucking back. Pulling back. See on iv. 2. 41 above. 

455. Leash. The cord or thong by which a hound is led. Cf. Cor. \. 
6. 38 : " Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash," etc. 

456. Your. The ist folio has "my;" corrected in the 2d. 

463. How often, etc. " The repetition of this earnest reminder to the 
prince of her having always striven to shov/ him how unlikely it was that 
his purpose should prosper, marks the noble indignation of Perdita at 
the Idng's charge that she has sought to win Florizel, and is in strict har- 
mony with her royal nature. It is from this imputation that she is most 
solicitous to free herself; it is this which most keenly wounds her; and 
she remains quietly downcast, with a majesty of silent reserve worthy of 
Hermione's daughter " (Clarke). Cf. p. 21 above. 

468. And mar the seeds within. Cf. Macb. iv. i. 59 : 

" though the treasure 
Of nature's germens tumble all together." 

• 471. Fancy. Love. See M. N. D. p. 129. 

479. Or the profound sea hides. Cf. 0th. i. 2. 28 : "For the sea's worth ;" 
and see note in our ed. p. 160. 
486. Tug. Cf. Macb. iii. i. 1 12 : 

"And I another 
So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune," etc. 

dfZ']. Deliver. Report. See v^^?;«. p. 186. 

488. Whojn. The ist folio has " who," which may be Avhat S. wrote. 
Gr. 274. 

489. Opportune. The accent is the same as in Temp.'w. ^. 511, the 
only other instance of the word in S. Gr. 490. For our the folios have 
" her ;" corrected by Theo. 

490. Rides. For the omission of the relative, cf 356 above. Gr. 244. 

494. Easier for advice. More inclined to take advice. 

495. Hark, Perdita. " Here is a perfect, though apparently slight, ex- 
ample of Shakespeare's dramatic art. By Florizel's taking Perdita apart 
we are made to perceive how he sees that she stands silently — as it were 
irresponsively and unassentingly by — while he speaks to Camillo ; and 
how he hastens to confer with her, and convince her of his unswerved 
faith, and persuade her to his views : moreover, it affords opportunity 
for Camillo's soliloquy, which tells the audience his plan" (Clarke). 

499. Do him love. Cf. R. and J. iii. 3. 1 18 : " doing damned hate upon 
thyself;" R. of L. 597 : " do him shame," etc. Gr. 303. 



202 NOTES. 

503. Fraught. Charged, burdened. See T. N. p. 162. 
Curious — requmug care, embarrassing. Cf. T. and C. iii. 2. 70: 
" What too curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the fountain of our 
love ?" 

509. As thought on. As thought of, as they are estimated. 
513. Ponderous. Weighty; that is, having weight or force with you. 
Cf Lear, i. i. 80 : 

"my love 's 
More ponderous ["richer" in quartos] than my tongue." 

519. Fore/end. Forbid. See Olh. p. 206. 

521. Your discontenting father, etc. Strive to pacify your angry father 
and bring him round to approving the match. On qualify, cf K. John, 
v. I. 13, T. and C. ii. 2. 118, etc. Discontenting ( = discontented) occurs 
nowhere else in S. See Gr. 372. 

527. The unthought-on accident. The unexpected discovery made by 
Polixenes. On=of, occurs very often in this play. For to dSier guilty, 
cf C. of E. iii. 2. 168: "But lest myself be guilty to self-wrong," etc. 
Guilty /"(^^responsible for. 

528. So we profess, etc. " As chance has driven me to these extremities, 
so I commit myself to chance, to be conducted through them " (John- 
son). 

532. Uitdergo. Undertake ; as in ii. 3. 164 above. Cf. T. G. of V. v. 

4. 42 ; 

"What dangerous action, stood it next to death, 
Would I not undergo for one calm look!" 

2 Ben. IV. i. 3. 54 : " How able such a work to undergo," etc. 

538. Asks. An ellipsis of the nominative (Gr. 399), with a change of 
construction (cf Gr. 415). 

540. Fresh. Cf 411 above. As Clarke remarks, the epithet "serves 
to set her in her clear-complexioned, clear-souled purity and brightness 
before us, with the bloom of a country maiden's cheek, and the white tem- 
ples of the born princess." 

541. Unkindness. See T. N. p. 156, note on Unkind. Kindness 
seems to combine the ideas of good-will and tenderness (see Much Ado, 
p. 118). 

544. Colour for my visitation. Pretext for my visit. Cf Hen. VIII. 
i. I. 178: 

"Under pretence to see the queen his aunt — 
For't was indeed his colour," etc. 

See also on i. i. 6 above. 

546. Comforts. Consolations. Cf A. and C. v. i. 62 : 

"give her what comforts 
The quality of her passion sliall require," etc. 

549. Betwixt us three. The only instance of this inaccurate use of be- 
tzvixt that we have noticed in S. 

550. Point yotc forth. Point out the way before you. Cf Cymb.w. 5. 

T-'^ ' "and thy lopp'd branches point 

Thy two sons forth." 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 203 

Sitting. Audience or interview. Theo. changed the word to " fit- 
ting." 

551. That. So that; as in i. i. 27 and in 146 above. Gr. 283. 

552. Have your father' s bosoj7i. Are intrusted with his inmost thoughts 
or feelings. Cf, M.for M. iv. 3. 139 : "And you shall have your bosom 
on this wretch " (that is, your heart's desire), etc. 

554. Sap. Life, promise. Cf. A. and C. iii. 13. 192 : "There 's sap in 
't yet." 

558. Btit as yoic shake off one, etc. Cf. Cy??ib. i. 5. 54 : 

" To shift his being ^• 

Is to exchange one misery witli another." 

559. Who. Often used for which, especially in personifications. Gr. 
264. 

566. Take in. Take, conquer. Cf. Cor. i. 2. 24 : " To take in many 
towns" (see also iii. 2. 59) ; A. and C. i. I. 23 : "Take in that kingdom, 
and enfranchise that " (see also iii. 7. 24 and iii. 13. 83) ; Cynib. iv. 2. 121 : 

" Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore 
With his own single hand he 'd take us in," etc. 

On the passage, see p. 21 above. 

570. /' the rear d' our birth. The folios have " i' th' reare ' our Birth " 
(" rear " in 4th folio). W. reads " i' th' rear 'f our birth." 

572. Sir ; for this, etc. The folio reads : 

" Your pardon Sir, for this, 
He blush you Thanks." 

Some editors point it thus : 

" Your pardon, sir, for this ; 
I '11 blush you thanks." 

576. Medicine. Physician. Cf. A. W. ii. i. 75 : 

" I have seen a medicine 
That 's able to breathe life into a stone," etc. 

See also Macb. p. 248. 

577. Furnish' d. Equipped, fitted out (like appointed in 581 below) ; 
as in T. G. of V, ii. 7. 85 : " To furnish me upon my longing journey," 
etc. 

578. Appear. That is, appear so, or like Bohemia's son. Rowe prints 
"appear in Sicily — ;" and the Coll. MS. has "appear't." 

587. Pomander. "A little ball made of perfumes, and worn in the 
pocket, or about the neck, to prevent infection in times of plague " (Grey). 
It was also worn for the sake of the perfume or as a mere ornament. 
Halliwell devotes several pages to it, with illustrations showing its varied 
form and construction. Steevens quotes the following recipe for the ar- 
ticle from Lingua, or a Combat for the Tongtie, 1607 : " Your only way to 
make a good Pomander is this : Take an ounce of the purest' garden 
mould, cleansed and steeped seven days in change of motherless rose- 
water. Then take the best labdanum, benjoin, both storaxes, amber-gris 
and civet and musk. Incorporate them together, and work them into 



204 



NOTES. 



what form you please. This, if your breath be not too valiant, will make 
ybu smell as sweet as my lady's dog."' Various other i-ecipes are given 
in books of the time. Cf. Drayton, Quest of Cynthia : 

" As when she from the water came. 
Where first she touch'd the mould, 
In balls the people made the same, 
For pomander, and sold ;" 
and Polyolbion, iv. : 

■ " Her moss most sweet and rare, 
Against infectious damps for pomander to wear." 

A book of devotion, published in 1578, was entitled "A Pomander of 
Prayers." 

For table-book, see Ham. p. 197, note on Tables. 

589. Hallowed. "This alludes to beads often sold by Romanists, 
as made particularly efficacious by the touch of some relic" (John- 
son). 

591. Was best in picture. Had the best look. 

594. Pettitoes. Literally, pig's feet; here used contemptuously. 

596. In ears. Mason conjectured "in their ears." 

598. Nothing. Perhaps, as Clarke suggests, there is a pun on nothing 
and noting. See Mnch Ado, p. 136. 

600. Whoo-bub. Hubbub, outcry ; used by S. only here. 

602. Choughs. For this bird, see Macb. p. 221 or Temp. p. 127. 

604. Nay, bnt my letters, etc. A reply to something said by Florizel 
during their conversation apart. Cf. 332 above. 

608. Who. Whom ; as in v. I. 109 below, etc. Gr. 274. 

617. Disease. Undress; as in Temp. v. i. 85 : "I will disease me." So 
ttncase in L. L. L. v. 2. 707 and T. of S. i. I. 212. 

620. Some boot. Something to boot. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 40 : "I '11 
give you boot," etc. The modern phrase occurs in Sonn. 135. 2, T. and C. 
i. 2. 260, Macb. iv. 3. 37, etc. 

624. Flayed. Jocosely = stripped ; perhaps playing on disease, the word 
case being often = skin (Clarke). There may be a play on case in 792 be- 
low. 

. 628. Earnest. Used quibblingly, referring to his question just before, 
and to the earnest he had received. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 1..162 : 

" Speed. But did you perceive her earnest? 

" Vaienitne. She gave me none, except an angry word." 

See also C. of E. ii. 2. 23 : 

^'' Antipholus of Syrac7t.se. Think' st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. 

[Beating him. 
'■'■ Droniio of Syracuse. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest; 
Upon what bargain do you give it me?" 

635. Disliken, etc. Disguise your natural appearance. 
637. Over. Elliptical for "over us," if the text is right. Rowe added 
"you," and the Coll. MS. gives "ever." Schmidt would point the pas- 
sage thus : 

"that you may 
(For I do fear eyes) over to shipboard,". etc. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. 



205 



638. I see the play so lies, etc. "The reluctance shown Ijy Perdita to 
join in the scheme of proposed flight, disguise, and consequent deception 
thereby entailed, is delineated with a force none the less remarkable from 
the extreme delicacy of the depicting, and which serves strikingly to 
characterize this transparent-natured creature" (Clarke). 

642. What have we, etc. Apparently a mere dramatic expedient to al- 
low the introduction of Camillo's soliloquy. 

647. To force. As to force. For the ellipsis, see Gr. 281. 

648. Reviezv. See again. S. uses the verb only here and in Sonn. 

74-5. 

663. I would not do V. Hannier transposed the not, placing it after 
zvere ; and Capell put it after thought. Autolycus means that it would 
not be honesty to tell the king, but a sort of knavery — that is, it would be 
playing a mean trick on those who had paid him well — and he decides on 
the greater knavery of concealing the plot. 

666. Hot. iVrdent, active. Cf. L. L. L. ii. i. 120: " Your wit 's too hot, 
it speeds too fast, 't will tire." 

667. A careful man. Clarke calls attention to the exquisite wit and 
humour of this expression in the mouth of Autolycus. 

670. Changeling. See on iii. 3. 108 above. "Most true to Shake- 
speare's philosophy of 'good in every thing' is the making this lout of a 
shepherd-clown have just the spark of sense to perceive that in their 
present strait honesty is the best policy" (Clarke). 

683. To go about. To be going, to attempt. See on 214 above. 

687. I know how mnch. Hanmer inserted "not" after know ; but the 
blunder was probably intentional. 

690. Fardel. Bundle ; spelt " Farthell " in the folio. It is used half a 
dozen times in this play, but elsewhere only in Hai7i. iii. i. 76. 

693. At palace. The folio prints "at ' Pallace." The apostrophe may 
be a misprint, or it may indicate the omission or absorption of the. Cf. 
Gr. 90. 

696. Excrement. Beard. The word is applied to the hair or beard in 
five out of the six passages in which S. uses it. See Ham. p. 238. 

698. An it like. If it please. Cf Ham. ii. 2. 80 : " It likes us well f 
and see note in our ed. p. 202. 

701. Having. Estate, property. See ^. KZ, p. 178. 

702. Discover. Disclose, tell me. See on ii. i. 50 above, 

706. Btit we pay them for it, etc. Daniel has suggested " not with 
stamped coin, but stabbing steel," comparing 0th. iii. 4. 5 : " He 's a sol- 
dier ; and for one to say a soldier lies is stabbing.''^ Autolycus appears to 
have mystified the critic here, as he doubtless did the clown. When he 
said that tradesmen " often give us soldiers the lie," he probably meant 
that they do it by lying about their wares (a trick that he was sufficiently 
familiar with) ; but, he adds, " we pay them for it with stamped coin, not 
with stabbing steel " — as they deserve, or as you would suppose. Trades- 
men could hardly be said to be in the habit of giving soldiers the lie in 
the literal sense of the phrase. 

'709. Had like. ' See A. Y. L. p. 197, note on And like. 

710. Taken yourself with the manner, A legal phrase = taken yourself 



2o6 NOTES. 

in the fact. Cf. L. L. L.\. i. 206 : " The manner of it is, I was taken with 
the manner ;" and He7t. IV. ii. 4. 347 : " O villain, thou stolest a cup of 
sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since 
thou hast blushed extempore." 

714. Measure. " Stately tread " (Malone). Cf. measure— z. grave dance ; 
as in Much Ado, ii. I. 80, etc. 

716. For that. Because. Cf ii. I. 7 above. //zi'mzM/^ = " intermed- 
dle " (Schmidt) ; as in Rich. III. i. 4. 152 : " he would insinuate with thee," 
etc. 

717. Ortouze. The ist folio has "at toaze," the later folios "or toaze." 
The word is probably the same that we have in M.for M. v. i. 313 : 

" to the rack with him ! we '11 touze you 
Joint by joint." 

There it means to pull apart ; here it is apparently=draw out. 

718. Cap-a-pe. From head to foot. See Ham. p. 186. 

724. A pheasant. " As he was a suitor from the country, the clown 
supposes his father should have brought a present o{ game, and therefore 
imagines, when Autolycus asks him what advocate he has, that by the word 
advocate he means z. pheasanf'' (Steevens). Reed says : " In the time of 
Queen Elizabeth there were Justices of the Peace called Basket Justices, 
who would do nothing without a present ; yet, as a member of the House 
of Commons expressed himself, 'for half a dozen of chickens would dis- 
pense with a whole dozen of penal statutes.' " Halliwell gives this apt 
illustration from the Journal of the Rev. Giles Moore, 1665 : " I gave to 
Mr. Cripps, solicitor, for acting for me in obtaining my qualification, and 
effecting it, £1 \os., and I allowed my brother Luxford for going to Lon- 
don thereupon, and presenting my lord with two brase of pheasants, ioj-.," 
etc. The patron to whom he sent the game was " Charles, Lord Goring, 
Earle of Norwich." 

Some editors needlessly <^2ccig% pheasant to "present." 

731. He wears them not handsomely. A "touch of nature." The 
shepherd, though a simple man, has an instinctive perception of the 
difference between a true gentleman and a vulgar fellow disguised as 
one. 

734. By the picking on 'j teeth. Johnson remarks : "It seems that to 
pick the teeth was at this time a mark of some pretension to greatness or 
elegance. So the Bastard, in Kiiig John [i. i. 190],' speaking of the trav- 
eller, says : ' He and his toothpick at my worship's mess.' " See also 
A.W.\. \. I']! : "just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not 
now ;" and Id. iii. 2. 8 : " Why, he will . . . pick his teeth and sing." 

738. Such . . . which. See on i. I. 22 above. 

750. In hand-fast. " In custody ; properly in mainpj-ise, in the custo- 
dy of a friend on security given for appearance " (D). In Cymb. i. 5. yS, 
hand-fast— h^\xo'i\\2^, marriage-engagement. 

754. Wit. Inventive power ; as in V. and A. 472, M.for M. v. i. 368, 
L. L. L. i. 2. 191, etc. 

755, Germane. Akin, related. Cf. 7". ^^. iv. 3. 344 : "germane to 
the lion," etc. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 207 

758. Sheep-whistling. Whistling for sheep, tending sheep. 

759. Co??ie into grace. That is, " undergo such ample grace and hon- 
our " {M.for M. i. I. 24) as to marry the prince. 

766. 'Noi7ited over -with honey, etc. Reed cites a book which S. may- 
have seen, The Stage of Popish Toyes, 1581 : "he caused a cage of yron 
to be made, and set it in the sunne : and, after annointing the pore Prince 
over with hony, forced him naked to enter in it, where hee long time en- 
dured the greatest languor and torment in the worlde, with swarmes of 
flies that dayly fed on him ; and in this sorte, with paine and famine, 
ended his miserable life." 

769. The hottest day, etc. " That is, the hottest day foretold in the 
almanac" (Johnson). Malone quotes the title of a Calendar of the 
time : " An Almanack and Prognostication made for the year of our 
Lord God 1595." 

773. Traitorly. Traitorous ; used by S. only here. 
_ 775. Being soiiiething gently considered. If I have a gentlemanlike con- 
sideration given me (Steevens) ; a delicate hint at a bribe. Cf. The He 
of Gulls, 1633 : "Thou shalt be well considered, there 's twenty crowns in 
earnest." 

777. Tender. Present, introduce. 

781. And though. Some editors read "an though." Cf Gr. loi. 

790, Moiety. See on ii. 3. 8 above, 

792. Case. See on 624 above. 

813. Back. The Coll. MS. has "luck." 

814. Aboai'd him. Aboard his ship. Cf. v. 2. no below: "aboard 
the prince." 

815. Shore. The only instance of the verb in S. Cf Gr. 290. 



ACT V. 

Scene I. — 2. Make. See on iii. 2. 215 above. 
6. Whilst I remember, etc. See p. 32 above. 

12. True, too true, etc. In the folios, the first true is joined to the pre- 
ceding speech ; corrected by Theo. See p. 23 above, 
14. Or from the all, etc. Cf Temp. iii. i. 47 : 

"but you, O you. 
So perfect and so peerless, are created 
Of every creature's best !" 

See also A. V. L. iii. 2. 149-160. 

19. Good now. For this "vocative use" oi good, see Ham. p. 173. 
27. Fail. See on ii. 3. 170 above. 

29. Tncertain. See on iii. 2. 167 above. 

30. Well. At rest. Cf. A. and C. ii. 5. 33 : " We use to say, the dead 
are well." See also R. and J. p. 208. As Henley remarks, this use of 
well seems to have been suggested by 2 Ki)igs, iv. 26. 

-^,1. Repair. Restoration. Cf 6'^;z;z. 3. 3, A^ y^//;;, iii. 4. I13, etc. 
35. Respecting. Considering, if we consider. Cf 2 Hen. VI.\\\. i. 24 : 
" Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears," etc. 



y 



2o8 NOTES. 

42. As my Antigonns, etc. For the construction, see Gr. 354, and cf. 
416. 

45. Cont7-ary. Schmidt puts this among the cases in which the accent 
is on the penult (like K. John, iv. 2. 198, Ham. iii. 2. 221, etc.), but the 
other accent, which is the more common one in S., suits the verse quite 
as well, if not better. See Ham. p. 227. 

46. Oppose against. Cf, T. of A. iii. 4. 80, Lear, ii. 4. 179, iv. 7. 32, Rich. 
II. iii. 3. 18, etc. 

52. Squa^-'d. See on iii. 3. 41 above. 

57-60. Would make, etc. The ist folio prints the passage thus : 

" would make her Sainted Spirit 
Againe possesse her Corps, and on this Stage 
(Where we offenders now appeare) Soule-vext, 
And begin, why to me?" 

Various emendations have been proposed ; as " (Where we offend her 
now) appear soul-vex'd" (Theo.) ; " (Were we offenders now) appear" 
(Heath) ; "(Where we offend her) now appear" (Spedding) ; " Where 
we 're offenders now, appear" (anon, in Camb. ed.), etc. The reading in 
the text is that of K., St., W., the Camb. ed., and others. Of course are 
is understoood with offenders. The reading '_' we're " is very plausible, 
but the ellipsis is not unlike many others in this play. 

In 60, Capell's reading." Begin, ' And why to me?'" is adopted by 
many editors. There is probably some corruption in the original. Ma- 
lone explains why to me? as — "why to me did you prefer one less wor- 
thy?" and Boswell (better, we think) "why such treatment to me?" 

61. Cause. The ist and 2d folios have "such cause." 

Ince7ise. Incite, instigate. See Much Ado, p. 166. 

65. That. So that. Cf. i. I. 27 and iv. 4. 146 above. 

66. Rift. Burst, split. S. uses the verb only here and in Temp. v. i. 
45 : "and rifted Jove's stout oak." Elsewhere he has rive ; as in Cor. 
V. 3. 153 •■ " That should but rive an oak," etc. 

75. Affront. Come before, meet. Cf. Ham. iii. I. 31 : 

"That he, as 'twere by accident, may here 
Affront Ophelia," etc. 
See Ham. p. 216. 

I have done. In the folios, these words are at the end of the pre- 
ceding speech ; the emendation is Capell's, and is generally adopted. 
K. and Halliwell retain the old reading. 

80. Walk' d your first queen's ghost. That is, z/it walked ; the inversion 
being like that still common with have, be, etc. Cf. 107 below. 

83. /;« breath. Elsewhere used only in the modern sense; as in T. 
and C. V. 7. 3 : " Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath," etc. 

85. Gives out. Cf. iv. 4. 149 above. 

87. Access. Accented regularly on the last syllable, except in Ham. ii. 
I. no. 

90. Out of cij'cum stance. Without ceremony. See Much Ado, p. 145 
and Ha7n. p. 197. 

91. Visitation. See on i. I. 6 above. Framed - planned, premedi- 
tated. 



ACT V. SCENE I. 



209 



94. Piece of earth. Cf. iv. 4. 32, 411 above. 

97. Gj-ave. Changed in the Coll. MS. to "grace." Clarke thus de- 
fends the old reading : " It affords befitting antecedent to colder than 
that thetne ; and it has fine poetic propriety in itself, as embodying the 
collective iDeauties of the supposed dead queen in her grave, and im- 
pressing upon Paulina's hearers the point of which she wishes them to 
be convinced — that Hermione's remains repose in t\iQ grave-'''' To us the 
antithesis of thy grave — thou in thy grave — and 7uhat 'j seen now — the 
living beauty before our eyes — seems very forcible. A good actress 
would make an impressive " point " of it. 

102. Shrewdly. Combining the ideas of ffmch and badly. Cf. HeJt. V. 
p. 170. 

109. Who. See on iv. 4. 608 above. 

113. With. By, Cf. v. 2. 60 below : " with a bear." Or. 193. 

114. Emb7'acej7ient. Used by S. oftener than ^/«<5r<2(:^. (Zi.C.ofEA.i. 
44, Rich. III. ii. I. 30, etc. 

117. Full a. The 3d and 4th folios have " a full." 

124. Ujifiirnish. Deprive. Cf. T. A. ii. 3. 56: " Unfurnish'd of her 
well-beseeming troop." 

126. Print, etc. Cf. ii. 3. 98 above. 

139. On him. Changed by Steevens to "upon;" but cf. Temp. iii. 2, 
53 : " whom Destiny . . . Hath caus'd to belch up you." For other ex- 
amples, see Gr. 249. 

141. At friend. On terms of friendship ; the reading of the ist folio, 
changed to " as friend " in the 2d. See Gr. 143 ; and cf. to friend in 
A. W. V. 3. 182, y. C. iii. I. 143, etc. 

142. Btct. ^w\.that. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 414: " And but he 's something 
stain'd," etc. Gr. 120. 

143. Waits upon worn times. Attends old age. .SmV^ fallen upon, 
attacked. 

155. Adventure. Hazard, risk; as in C of E. ii. 2. 218: "at all ad- 
ventures," etc. Cf. the use of the verb in Temp. ii. i. 187, M. of V. i. i. 
143, etc. See also i, 2. 38, ii. 3. 162, and iv. 4. 448 above. 

156. Libya. Douce conjectured " Lydia " or " Lycia." 

169. Climate. Try the climate, sojourn ; the only instance of the verb 
in S. 

Holy. Good, blameless. Cf. Temp. v. i. 62 : " Holy Gonzalo, honour- 
able man," etc. Gj'aceful in next line = full of grace, gracious. 

181. Attach. Arrest; a law term. See R. a7id J. y>. 21^ ox Rich. II. 
p. 186. 

188. Whiles. See Gr. 137. 

196. In question. Under examination ; not simply "in conversation" 
(cf. iv. 2. 44 above), as some explain it. 

201. O my poor father I On the silence of Perdita up to this point, see 
p. 21 above. 

203. Our contract celebrated. Our betrothal consummated by mar- 
riage. See T.N. p. 160 (note on Plight me, etc.) and p. 166 (note on 
Contracted). 

206. The odds for high and low, etc. The chances for the high and 

o 



2IO NOTES. 

the low in rank are equally uncertain. Douce sees here a quibble on 
the false dice called high and low ; as in M. W. i. 3. 95. 

213. Worth. Johnson remarks : " Worth signifies any kind oi worthi- 
ness, and among others that of high descent. The king means that he is 
sorry the prince's choice is not in other respects as worthy of him as in 
beauty." For 7e/<?r//^= wealth, fortune, see T. N. p. 151. 

215. Visible an enemy. Appearing visibly as an enemy. 

218. Remember since, etc. Remember when, etc. ; that is, recollect 
when you were no older than I am. Since is used in this way only after 
verbs of remembering. Cf. M. N. D. ii. i. 149 : 

" Thou rememberest 
Since once I sat upon a promontory," etc. 
See Gr. 132. 

219. With thought of such affections. Thinking of such feelings as you 
then had, recalling what your feelings then were. 

223. Sir, my liege. A form of address used also in Temp. v. i. 245 and 
Cymb. iii. i. 16. Cf. Sir, my lord, in i. 2. 306 above, and sir, my gracious 
lord, in iv. 4. 5. 

229. Your honour, etc. If your honour, etc. Cf. iii. 2. 75 above. Gr. 
377. 

Scene II. — 4. Deliver. Relate. Cf. iv. 4. 487 above and 25 below. 

5. Afnazedness. Cf AI. W. iv. 4. 55 : "We two in great amazedness 
will fly." 

6. Only this, etc. The folio prints the passage thus : " onely this (me 
thought) I heard the Shepheard say, he found the child." Some eds. 
give it : " only this, methought I heard the shepherd say he found the 
child." 

17. Importance. Import (Malone and Schmidt). 

18. Of the one. That is, of the one or the other. 

19. Happily. Haply; as often. See T. N. p. 158 or Ham. pp. 175, 
208. Gr. 42. 

23. Ballad-makers. These writers were in the habit of turning any 
extraordinary event to account. Cf. the subjects of the ballads that Au- 
tolycus has for sale (iv. 4. 254 fol. above), and see note on iv. 4. 263. 

29. Pregnant by circumstance. Made plausible by the circumstances 
or the facts in the case. Pregnant is elsewhere used in a similar sense 
=about to appear as truth, highly probable. Cf M.for M. ii. i. 2'^,0th. 
ii. I. 239, A. and C. ii. i. 45, and Cymb. iv. 2. 235. 

32. Jexvel. Used for any personal ornament of gold or precious stones. 
See T. N. p. 154. 

33. Character. Handwriting. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 53 : " 'T is Hamlet's 
character," etc. 

35. Affection. Disposition; as in Macb.'w.'^.']'] : "my most ill-com- 
pos'd affection," etc. Affection of nobleness = 'm\-\7ite nobility. 

46. Favour. Look, aspect. See Ham. p. 263 or M. N. D. p. 130. 

51. Clipping. Embracing. Cf i^ y<^/^;z, v. 2. 34 : " Neptune's arms, 
who clippeth thee about." See also Oth. p. 192. 

52. Wec^ther-bitten. Changed to "weather-beaten" in the 3d folio. 



ACT V. SCENE II. 21 1 

Henley remarks : " Conduits representing a human figure were here- 
tofore not uncommon. One of this kind, a female form, and weather- 
beaten, still exists at Hoddesdon in Herts." Cf R. and J. iii. 5. 129 : 
" How now ! a conduit, girl ? what, still in tears ?" and see note in our 
ed. p. 196. 

55. To do it. That is, to describe it. Hanmer changed do to " draw," 
and the Coll. MS. has "show." Sr. conjectures "do it justice." 

Malone compares Tei7ip. iv. i. 10 : 

" For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, 
And make it halt behind her." 

66. Wracked. For the spelling, see T. N. p. 162. 

71. Another. The other. Cf. iii. 3. 20 and iv. 4. 176 above. 

79. Angled. See on iv. 2. 41 above. On the passage, see p. 22 
above. 

85. Who -was most marble. Even those who were of the hardest nat- 
ures, or least susceptible of emotion; not "most petrified with wonder," 
as Steevens explained it. 

92. Julio Romano. He was born in 1492 and died in 1546. For the 
anachronism, see pp. 13, 17, and 35 above. ^^^rw/Zj = immortality ; as 
in R. of L. 214 : " Or sells eternity to get a toy," etc. 

93. Of her cnstojn. " That is, of her trade — would draw her customers 
from her" (Johnson). 

94. Is he her ape. Does he ape her. Cf. Cy77ib. ii. 2. 31 : "O sleep, 
thou ape of death ! " 

loi. Removed. Remote, retired. See A. V. L. p. 177. 

102. Piece. Add to, increase. 

106. Unthi'ifty to onr knowledge. " Not intent on increasing, and hence 
not increasing, our knowledge" (Schmidt). 

116. Relished. Schmidt makes relish here="have a pleasing taste." 
The meaning may be, it would have counted as nothing in comparison 
with my discredits, would not have served to give them even a "relish 
of salvation" {Ham. iii. 3. 92). 

120. Moe. See on i. 2. 8 above. 

122. Denied. Refused. See R. and J. p. 159. 

123. See you these clothes ? See p. 36 above. 

139. Preposterous. The clown's blunder iox prosperous (Schmidt). 

144. For we must be gentle, etc. The shepherd's expression of " No- 
blesse oblige." See on iii. 3. 125 above. 

152. Franklins. Freeholders, yeomen ; above villains or serfs, but not 
gentlemen (Johnson). Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 79 : 

"A riding-suit, no costHer than would fit 
A franklin's housewife." 

156, A tall fellow of thy hands. "An active, able-bodied man, who 
will stand the test " (Schmidt). Cf. M. W. i. 4. 27 : " he is as tall a man 
of his hands as any is between this and his head ; he hath fought with a 
warrener.'' Cf. T. N. p. 123, note on Tall. Hallivvell cites Cotgrave, 
Fr. Diet. : " Haul a la main, Homme a la main, Homme de main, — A 
man of his hands ; a man of execution or valour ; a striker, like enough 



212 NOTES. 

to lay about him;" and Palsgrave, Lesclaircissement, etc., 1530: "He is 
a tall man of his handes, Oest 7ing habille homme de ses mains.'''' 
160. To my power. To the best of my ability. 

164. Picture. That is, painted statue. 

165. Masters. Patrons. Cf. L. L. L. iv. i. 106: "From my Lord 
Biron, a good master of mine." Whalley cites a letter from Fisher, 
Bishop of Rochester, when in prison, to Cromwell : " Furthermore, I be- 
seeche you to be gode master unto one in my necessities," etc. 

Scene III. — 4. Home. In full. See on i. 2. 238 above, and cf. Ham. 
p. 232, note on Tax hi?n home. 

11. Content. Satisfaction, pleasure. See (9//^. p. 174. 

12. Singularities. Rarities, curiosities. Cf. singular in iv. 4. 144 above. 

18. Lonely. The 1st folio has " Louely," the later folios "Lovely;" 
corrected by Hanmer. Warb. defended "lovely," explaining it as 
" charily, with more than ordinary regard and tenderness." 

19. Lively. To the life. Cf. T. G. of V. iv. 4. 174 : " so lively acted ;" 
T. of S. ind. 2. 58 : " As lively painted as the deed was done," etc. 

26. Ln thy not chiding. A "little instance of tender remembrance in 
Leontes, which adds to the charming impression of Hermione's charac- 
ter" (Mrs. Jameson). 

32. As. As if. See Gr. 107. 

34. Thtcs she stood, etc. Mrs. Jameson remarks : " The expressions 
used here by Leontes, and by Polixenes [in 66 below], appear strangely 
applied to a statue, such as we usually imagine it — of the cold colourless 
marble ; but it is evident that in this scene Hermione personates one of 
those images or effigies, such as we may see in the old Gothic cathedrals, 
in which the stone, or marble, was coloured after nature. I remember 
coming suddenly upon one of these effigies, either at Basle or at Fribourg, 
which made me start : the figure was large as life ; the drapery of crim- 
son, powdered with stars of gold; the face and eyes and hair tinted after 
nature, though faded by time. It stood in a Gothic niche, over a tomb, as 
I think, and in a kind of dim uncertain light. It would have been very 
easy for a living person to represent such an effigy, particularly if it had 
been painted by that 'rare Italian master, Julio Romano,' who, as we are 
informed, was the reputed author of this wonderful statue." 

That these painted statues were not unknown in the poet's time is evi- 
dent from B. J., Magnetic Lady, v. 5 : 

''''Rut. I 'd have her statue cut now in white marble. 
'•''Sir Moth. And have it painted in most orient colours. 
'''' Rtd. That 's right! all city statues must be painted; 
Else they '11 be worth nought in their subtle judgments." 

The monumental bust of Shakespeare at Stratford was originally painted 
in imitation of nature, " the hands and face flesh colour, the eyes of a light 
hazel, the hair and beard auburn," etc. (Britton). Vasari states that Giu- 
lio Romano built a house for himself in Mantua, the front of which " he 
adorned with a fantastic decoration of coloured stuccoes." 
- 42. Standing like stone. " The grief, the love, the remorse, and impa- 
tience of Leontes are finely contrasted with the astonishment and ad- 



ACT V. SCENE III. 213 

miration of Perdita, who, gazing on the figure of her mother like one en- 
tranced, looks as if she were also turned to marble" (Mrs. Jameson). 

56. Piece up. " Hoard up, so as to have his fill" (Schmidt). 

58. Wrought. Wrought upon, agitated. Cf. Te7np. iv. i. 144 : 

"your father 's in some passion 
That works him strongly ;'' 

Id. V. I. 17 : " Your charm so strongly works 'em," etc. See also Macb. 
i. 3. 149 and 0th. v. 2. 345, 

62. Would I were dead, etc. It has been suspected that a line is lost after 
this one ; and the Coll. MS. inserts " I am but dead stone, looking upon 
stone," An anonymous conjecture (quoted by Sr.) is "I 'm in heaven, 
and looking on an angel." But, as Clarke remarks, the diction is in 
keeping with that of Leontes throughout — "disjointed, and full of sud- 
den starts." 

St. takes Would I tvere dead but that, etc., as = May I die if I do not 
think that already — she is alive, he would have said, had he not inter- 
rupted himself. But it is doubtful whether but that ever follows a clause 
of this kind, the simple but being regularly used. 

(j*]. Fixure. " Direction" (Schmidt). Edwards says : "The meaning 
is, though her eye be fixed (as the eye of a statue always is) yet it seems 
to have motion in it : that tremulous motion which is perceptible in the 
eye of a living person, how much soever one endeavour to fix it." In T. 
and C. i. 3. loi, the only other instance of the word in S., it is = stability. 
Fixture (=:setting) occurs only in AI. W. iii. 3. 67. 

6S. As. Changed by Capell to "and." Mason conjectures "so." Ma- 
lone and Steevens take as to be = as if. Clarke explains it better: 
" Leontes refers to the contradiction in the first clause of his speech : 
The immobility of eye proper to a statue seems to have the motion of a 
living eye, as we are thus beguiled by art." With=hy ; as in v. i. 113 
and V. 2. 60 above. 

86. Resolve yoic. Prepare yourselves. 

96. Ujilawful bjisijiess. For the old laws against the practice of magi- 
cal arts, see A. V. L. p. 194, note on Not damnable. 

100. Look upon. See on iv. 4. 435 above. 

107. Double. For the adverlDial use, cf. A. W. ii. 3. 254, Macb. i. 6. 15, 
iv. I. 83, etc. 

109. Is she become the suitor? Rowe changed the interrogation mark 
of the folio to a period, and has been generally followed, except by K., 
v., and the Camb. editors. We do not see much to choose between the 
readings, but on the whole prefer the old one. Paulina says in sub- 
stance : Do not be afraid of her, but give her your hand ; you wooed her 
once, is she become the suitor now ? This does not imply that Hermione 
makes no advances, but rather indicates surprise that he who once wooed 
her should now " shun" her when she approaches him and let her do all 
the wooing. 

III. She embraces him. On the silence of Hermione, see pp. 27 and 
32 above. 

122. Your sacred vials. Malone remarks that the expression seems to 
have been suggested by Rev. xvi. i ; and Halliwell adds Isa. xlv. 8. 



214 



NOTES. 



129. Push. Impulse (Schmidt), or suggestion. Clarke explains it as 
"emergency, special occasion." 

131. Yojt precious winners. You who have gained what is precious to 
you. 

132. Partake. Impart. Cf. Per. i. i. 153 : 

"our mind partakes 
Her private actions to your secrecy." 

Turtle. See on iv. 4. 154 above. 

144. Whose. Referring to Camillo, not to her. 

145. Is richly noted. The Var, of 1821 misprints "It richly noted." 
y?/j-^^^^=avouched. Cf. v. 2. 62 above. 

147. What! look upon my brother. "How exquisitely this serves to 
depict the sensitively averted face of Hermione from Polixenes, recol- 
lecting all the misconstruction that had formerly grown out of her purely 
gracious attentions to him ; and also how sufficingly it shows the sincere 
repentance of Leontes for bygone errors, that he has had sixteen years to 
mourn and see in their true light ! No one better than Shakespeare knew 
the nobleness of a candid avowal of previous mistake, the relief of heart 
to its speaker, the elevated satisfaction to its hearers ; and with this 
crowning satisfaction he leaves us at the close of this grandly beautiful 
play" (Clarke). 

\A^%. Holy. Blameless. Cf. v. i. 29, 31, and 169 above. 

149. This is your son-in-law, etc. The folio reads thus : 

" This your Son-in-law, 
And Sonne vnto the King, whom heauens directing 
Is troth-plight to your daughter." 

D. adopts Walker's suggestion of "This' your"="This is your," which, 
as the latter remarks, would not mar the metre, though he prefers the 
other. The "Globe" ed. inserts the "is." It seems awkward to make 
the leading sentence " This your son-in-law is troth-plight to your daugh- 
ter" — the assertion being already implied in the subject — and to make 
"whom heavens directing" merely parenthetical. What Leontes says 
is rather, we think, " This is your son-in-law, and by heaven's direction 
he is troth-plight," etc. " Whom heavens directing" is a "confusion of 
construction" for "Who, heavens directing him." For many somewhat 
similar ones, see Gr. 249, 410, and 415. Capell changed whom to "who," 
as the " Globe " ed. does. 

For froth-plight, cf. Hen. V.n. i. 21 : "you were troth-plight to her." 




INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 



abide, i86. 

aboard him, 207. 

abused (=:deceived), 167. 

access (accent), 168,208. 

action, 166. 

adheres (=pertains), 182. 

adventure (verb), 149, 172, 

201, 209. 
afar off guilty, 166. 
afeard, 200. 

affection (=disposition),2io. 
affection (=lust), 154. 
affects (form), 200. 
affront (=meet), 208. 
aired, 182. 
allow (of this), 182. 
allowed (=allowable), 158. 
allowing (=approving), 156. 
amazedness, 210. 
an it like (=if it please), 205. 
ancient, 189. 
ancientrj', iSo. 
angle (^attraction), 183. 
another ( =the other), 179, 

195,211. 
ape, 211. 
ape-bearer, 186. 
apparent (=heir apparent), 

156. 
appear (=appear so), 203. 
appoint myself, 160. 
apprehend, iSS. 
approbation (=proof), 167. 
approved (=proved), 183. 
argument (=subject}, 182. 
as (=as if), 160, 182, 212. 
as (omitted), 205. 
aspect (accent), 166. 
at door, 199. 
at friend, 209. 
at palace, 205. 
attach (=arrest), 209. 
attorneyed, 148. 
aunts (=mistresses), 184. 
avoid (=begone), 163. 

baits (=attacks), 170. 
barne, 180. 



basilisk, 161. 

bawcock, 153. 

bearing-cloth, 181. 

becoming (=comely), 179. 

benched, 159. 

best in picture, 204. 

Best, the ( = Christ), 162. 

betwixt us three, 202. 

bide upon, 158. 

blank (=target), 168. 

blench, 160. 

bless me from, 198. 

block, 157. 

blood (^passions), 151. 

blossom, 179. 

Bohemia, 148, 179. 

boiled brains, 180. 

boot, to, 151, 204. 

borrow (noun), 149. 

bosom (=inmost thoughts), 

203. 
bourn, 154. 

braid (=deceitful), 196. 
brave (=fine), 196. 
break up, 176. 
break-neck, 160. 
breed, 179. 

bring (= accompany), 186. 
bug (=bugbear), 176. 
but (=but that), 209. 
but (=only), 165. 
but (peculiar use), 183, 195. 

caddisses, 196. 
callat, 170. 
came home, 157. 
cap-a-pe, 206. 
carbonadoed, 198. 
carnations, 189. 
carriage (=conduct), 174. 
case (=skin), 204, 207. 
caught (=impressed), 174. 
censure (=judgment), 164. 
centre (=earth), 165. 
chamber-counsels, 158. 
changed (=exchanged), 151, 

188. 
changeling, 181, 205. 



character, 179, 210. 

charge (=value), 197. 

charm your tongues, 197. 

chase, 180. 

cheat, 184. 

child (=girl), 180. 

childness, 156. 

choughs, 204. 

clap thyself my love, 152. 

clerk-like, 161. 

climate (verb), 209. 

clipping, 210. 

cock (=woodcock), 184. 

collop, 154. 

colour (=pretext), 202. 

come into grace, 207. 

comforting (^aiding), 169. 

comforts ( = consolations ), 

202. 
commend it strangely, 173. 
commission, 155. 
commodity, 176. 
compassed a motion, 186. 
conceit, 157, 177. 
conjure (accent), 161. 
content, 212. 
contract ( ^betrothal ), igg, 

209. 
contrary (accent), 208. 
cop'st with, 200. 
corse, 194. 
counters, 185. 
crack, 159. 

cracks his gorge, 165. 
credent (=credible), 155. 
crown imperial, 193. 
curious, 202. 
curst, 181. 

Cyprus (=crape), 196. 
Cytherea, 192. 

daffodils, 183, 192. 

dam, 178. 

damnable (adverb), 178. 

dances (=throbs), 153. 

dead (= deadly), 200. 

dear, 172. 

dear' St, 154. 



2i6 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



deliver (^report), 201, 210. 

Delphos, 168. 

denied, 211. 

Deucalion, 2co. 

dibble, 190. 

die and drab, 184. 

dildos, 195. 

dim, 192. 

disease 204. 

discontenting, 202. 

discovered, 165, 205. 

discovery, 162. 

disliken, 204. 

dispute (=discuss), 199. 

Dis's waggon, 191. 

divine (=priest), 174. 

divorce, 199. 

do him love, 201. 

doctrine, 151. 

dole, 156. 

double (adverb), 213. 

doxy, 184. 

dread, 159. 

due (^appropriate), 175. 

earnest (play upon), 204. 
earth (=land), 179. 
easier for advice, 201. 
embracement, 209. 
encounter (=befall), 164. 
encounter with, 172. 
encounters, 148, 175. 
estate (=state), 199. 
eternity, 211. 

excrement (=beard), 205. 
expedition, 163. 
extremes, 187. 

fact, 175. 

fading, 195. 

fail (noun), 172, 207. 

falling (transitive), 160. 

fancy (=love), 201. 

far (=farther), 200. 

fardel, 205. 

favour (=^look), 210. 

fearful, 158. 

featly, 195. 

federary, 165. 

feeding, 195. 

fellows, 172. 

fetch off, 160. 

fixure, 213. 

flap-drag oiied, 180. 

flatness, 176. 

flaunts (=finery), 188. 

flayed, 204. 

flower-de-luce, 193. 

fond (=foolish), 200. 

fool, 166. 

for (=because), 179, 189. 

for because, 164. 

for perpetuity, 149. 



for that, 206. 

for to, 162. 

forced, 170, 188. 

forceful, 167. 

fore, 175. 

forefend, 202. 

forges (=;frames), 187. 

forked (=horned), 156. 

framed (=planned), 208. 

franklins, 211. 

fraught, 202. 

free, 168, 169. 

freedom of my knowledge, 

149. 
frequent to, 183. 
fresh, 202. 
friendships, 183. 
furnished, 203. 
fury, 179. 

gallimaufry, 199. 

gallows and knock, 184. 

gap, 195- 

garhc, 194. 

gentle, 188. 

gently considered, 207. 

gentry, 161. 

germane, 206. 

gest, 150. 

gillyvors, 189. 

give line, 156. 

give out (=show), 164, 208. 

glass (= hour-glass), 159. 

glisters, 177, 182. 

gloves (perfumed), 196. 

go about, 196,205. 

good deed, 150. 

good now, 207. 

good sooth, 194. 

gossips (=sponsors), 169. 

grace to boot! 151. 

graceful, 209. 

grafted in my serious trust, 

158. 
growth untried, 182. 
guilty to, 202. 
gust (=perceive), 157. 

had like, 205. 

haled, 176. 

hammered of, 168. 

hand (verb), 169, 199. 

hand-fast, 206. 

hangman, 201. 

happily (=haply), 210. 

happy man be 's dole ! 155. 

harlot (adjective), 16S. 

hath (plural), 148. 

have at it, 198. 

have of, 196. 

having (=property), 205. 

heat (=run a heat), 152. 

heavings, 169. 



heavy matters, 180. 

hefts, 165. 

hence (adjective), 163. 

hent, 186. 

hold (=have), 155. 

holy (=good), 209, 214. 

home (adverbial), 158, 212. 

honey-mouthed, 168. 

hot (= ardent), 205. 

hovering (=wavering), 159. 

boxes, 158. 

i' fecks ! 153. 

i' the name of me, 186. 

I list not prophesy, 182. 

I '11 keep my stables, etc , 
166. 

immodest, 176. 

importance (= import), 210. 

imposition cleared, the, 151. 

in breath, 208. 

in good time, 195. 

in post, 168. 

in question, 209. 

in skill, 167. 

incense, 208. 

incertain, 207. 

incertainties, 177. 

incidency, 161. 

industriously, 158. 

influences, 162. 

inkles, 196. 

insinuate, 206. 

intelligencing, 170. 

intelligent, i6i. 

intention, 154. 

into my note, 148. 

is grown into an unspeaka- 
ble estate, 183. 

it (possessive), 155, 176. 

it is, 148. 

it own, 172. 

it's, 155, 158. 

jar (=tick), 150. 
jewel, 159, 210. 
Julio Romano, 211. 
justified, 214. 

kills my heart, 186. 
kiln-hole, 197. 
knack, 197, 200. 

lady Fortune, 188. 
land-damn, 167. 
lasting wink, 159. 
lavender, 190. 
lays it on, 185. 
leash, 201. 
leave me solely, 169. 
let him there, 150. 
level, 168, 175. 
lewd-tongued, 172. 



INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



217 



limber (=weak), 150. 

lively, 2 1 2. 

longs ( = belongs), 176. 

look upon, 200, 213. 

look upon his removedness, 

183. 
looks on alike, 200. 
lordings, 151. 
loss, 173, 179. 
loud weather, 179. 
lower messes, 157. 
lozel, 172. 
lunes, 168. 

made, i8r. 
made fault, 178. 
maidenheads, igi. 
makes her blood look out, 

194. 
maliciously, i59._ 
mankind (adjective), 169. 
mannerly distinguishment, 

165. 
marigold, igr. 
marjoram, 190. 
marted, 199. 
masters, 212. 
material, 157. 
me (=for me), 182. 
me (=1), 161. 
mean (noun), 190. 
meaner form, 159. 
means (=tenors), 185. 
measure, 206. 
medal, 159. 

medicinal (accent), 169. 
medicine (^physician), 203. 
men of hair, 198. 
mess, 157, 187. 
methought, 155. 
midwife, 173. 
milliner, 195. 

minded (=reminded), 178. 
mints, 190. 
missingly, 1B3. 
moe, 149, 198. 
moiety, 169, 175, 207. 
money 's a meddler, 198. 
mort o' the deer, 153. 
most worst, 178. 
motion (=puppet-show), 186. 

neat, 153. 

neb, 156. 

necklace amber, 196. 

next (=nearest), 181. 

no more but, 186. 

not (transposed), 187, 195, 

199. 
note, 148, 149, 158, 183, 185. 
nuptial, 188, 199. 

o' life, 197. 



o'er-dyed blacks, 153. 

o'erween, 183. 

of, 148. 

of a fool, 178. 

officed, 156. 

on ( = in consequence of), 

168. 
on (=of), 157, 187, 202. 
one self-born, 182. 
opportune (accent), 201. 
oppose against, 208. 
out, alas! 191. 
out of circumstance, 208. 
over, 204. 
owe (=own), 174. 
oxlips, 193. 

pace softly, 186. 

paddling palms, 153. 

pale (=paleness), 1S4. 

pale primroses, 192. 

pantler, 188. 

part (^depart), 149. 

part (=divide), 149. 

partake (=impart), 214. 

parts (=actions), 161. 

pash, 153. 

passing (adverb), 198. 

peer (=appear), 184, 187. 

perfect (^certain), 179. 

petition (=appeal), 178. 

pettitoes, 204. 

pheasant, 206. 

physics the subject, 148. 

picking on 's teelh, 206. 

picture ( = painted statue), 

212. 
piece (=add to), 211. 
piece up, 213. 
piedness, 190. 
pin and web, 158. 
pinched, 165. 
places (=honours), 162. 
plucks, 183, 201. 
point forth, 202. 
points (=laces), 196. 
poking-sticks, 196. 
pomander, 203. 
ponderous, 202. 
posterns, 162. 
pound (plural), 185. 
practice (=plot), 177. 
pranked up, 187. 
predominant, 157. 
pregnant by circumstance, 

210. 
preposterous, 211. 
present (=instant), 173, 179. 
presently, 168. 
pretence (=intention), 174. 
prig, 186. 
professed, 163. 
proper (=own), 172. 



Proserpina, 191. 
pugging, 185. 
purgation, 174. 
Puritan, 185. 
push (=impulse), 214. 
put us to 't, 149, 194. 
putter-on, 167. 

queen it, 200. 
queens (figurative), 194. 
question (=talk), 183. 
quick ( = alive), 194. 
quoifs, 196. 

race (=root), 186. 
raisins o' the sun, 186. 
rash (=quick-acting), 159. 
reared to worship, 159. 
reason (= there is reason), 

199. 
red-looked, 168. 
regard (=look>, 161. 
relish, 167, 211. 
remember thee, 178. 
removed (=remote), 211. 
repair (noun), 207. 
replenished, 165. 
require (=deserve), 173, 175. 
resolve you, 212. 
respecting, 207. 
rest (=remain), 179. 
review, 205. 
rheums, 199. 
rift, 208. 

ripe (=urgent), 160. 
rosemary, 189. 
round (=whisper), 157. 
royally attomeyed, 148. 
rue, 189. 

's (=us), 149. 

sad (=serious), 198. 

sap (=life), 203. 

savory, 190. 

scape, 180. _ 

sealing the injury of tongues, 

160. 
sear (=brand), 165. 
second (=helpful), 169. 
seized (=fallen upon), 209. 
seven-night, 149. 
severals, 157. 
shall 's, 156. 
she (=her), 168. 
she (=:woman), 199. 
shed water out of fire, 178. 
sheep-shearing feast, 185. 
sheep-whistling, 207. 
ship side, 180. 
shoots, 153. 
shore (verb), 207. 
'shrew, 158. 
shrewdly, 209. 



2i8 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



sighted like the basilisk, i6i. 

silly (=poor, petty), 184. 

since (=when), 210. 

singularities, 212. 

sir, 157, 199. 

sir, my liege, 210. 

sitting, 203. 

skill (=reason), 194. 

sleeve-band, 196. 

sneaping, 149. 

so (=as), 157. 

so (omitted), 148, 203, 208. 

so . . . whose, 156, 

soaking, 157. 

so-forth, 157. 

something (adverb), 155, 207. 

sooth, 195. 

sped, 161, 179. 

speed (=fortune), 177. 

spices, 178. 

spider (venomous), 164. 

spirit (monosyllable), 173. 

sprightly (adverb), 188. 

springe, 184. 

square, 196. 

squared, 179, 208. 

squash, 155. 

squire, 156. 

squire (=square), 199. 

starred most unluckily, 176. 

strained (=twisted), 175. 

straited, 199. 

strength of limit, 176. 

stretch-mouthed, 195. 

strike (of planets), 157. 

stuffed sufficiency, 168. 

subject (=peop]e), 148. 

success (=succession;, 161. 

such . . . that, 158. 

such . . . which, 148, 206. 

surprised (=overcame), 174. 

swear by this sword, 172, 

176. 
swear over, 162. 
sworn to show myself a glass, 

187. 

table-book, 204. 
take (=captivate), 174. 
take eggs for money, 155. 
take in (= conquer), 203. 



take your patience to you, 

179. 
taken with the manner, 205. 
tall fellow of thy hands, 211. 
tardied, 177. 
tawdry-lace, 197. 
tell (=count), 195. 
tender (=present), 207. 
that (af&x), 151. 
that (=0 that), 149. 
thereabouts, 161. 
thereto (=besides), 161. 
thick (verb), 156. 
thorough (=through), 177. 
those of your fact, 176. 
three-man songmen, 1F5. 
three-pile, 184. 
thriving, 168. 
throughly, 165. 
tincture (=colour), 178. 
to my power, 212. 
tods, 184. 
touze, 206. 
toys. -79. 
traitorly, 207. 
tremor cordis, 153. 
troll-my-dames, 186. 
troth-plight, 214. 
trumpet (=trumpeter), 168. 
trunk (=body), 162. 
tug, 201. 
turtles (=doves), 194, 214. 

unbraided, 196. 
unclasped my practice, 177. 
uncurrent, 175. 
undergo, 202. 
uneasy, 183. 
unfurnish, 209. 
unintelligent, 148. 
imkindness, 202. 
unrolled, 186. 
unsphere the stars, 150. 
unthought-on, 202. 
unthrifty to our knowledge, 

211. 
utter (=cause to pass), 198. 

valley, 170. 
vast (noun), 148. 
very sooth, 149. 



vessel of like sorrow, 179. 
vice (verb), 162. 
villain, 154. 
violets dim, 192. 
virginalling, 153. 
visible an enemy, 210. 
visitation, 148, 202, 208. 
vulgars, 165. 

wafting his eyes, 160. 
waits upon worn times, 209. 
want (=be without), 183. 
wanted less impudence, etc., 

175- 
ward, 149. 
warden pies, 185. 
watery star, 148. 
weak-hinged, 172. 
wearing (=dress), 187. 
weather-bitten, 210. 
weeds (=garments), 187. 
welkin (adjective), 154. 
well (of the dead), 207. 
what lady she, 150. 
whiles, 209. 

whisper (transitive), 162. 
whistle off', 197. 
Whitsun pastorals, 194. 
who (=^which), 203. 
who (^whom), 204. 
whoo-bub, 204. 
wild (=rash), 167. 
wilful-negligent, 158. 
wit (=inventive power), 206. 
wit (= wisdom), 168. 
with (=by), 209, 213. 
with a custom, 187. 
without-door, 165. 
without more overture, 167. 
woe the while! 177. 
woman-tired, 170. 
wondering, 182. 
worst, 169. 

worth (^fortune), 210. 
worthy (^valuable), 195. 
wotting, 175. 
wracked, 211. 
wrought, 213. 

yellow, 170. 
yest, 180. 




SHAKESPEARE. 

WITH NOTES BY WM. J. ROLFE, A.M, 



THE MERCHANT OF VEN 

ICE. 
THE TEMPEST. 
JULIUS C^SAR. 
HAMLET. 

HENRY THE FIFTH. 
MACBETH. 
TWELFTH NIGHT. 
AS YOU LIKE IT. 

KING JOHN. 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 
RICHARD THE SECOND. 
A MIDSUMMER. NIGHT'S 

DREAM. 
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTH- 
ING. 
ROMEO AND JULIET. 
OTHELLO. 
WINTER'S TALE. 
(In Press.) 



Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 70 Cents per Volume; Paper, 
50 Cents per Volume. 



In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational purposes. 
The chief requisites of such a work are a pure text (expurgated, if neces- 
sary), and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 

Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
ceded by an Introduction containing the " History of the Play," the 
" Sources of the Plot," and " Critical Comments on the Play." 



Fro7n Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the '' N'ew 
Va riorum Shakespeare. ' ' 

In my opinion Mr. Rolfe's series of Shakespeare's Plays is thoroughly 
admirable. No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed 
with the conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which 
they are edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are writ- 
ten Mr. Rolfe never loses sight of, but like "a well-experienced archer 
hits the mark his eye doth level at." 



Rolfe''s Shakespeare. 



From F. J. Furnivall, Director of the New Shakspere Society^ London. 

The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
hard words from a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelped, 
catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 

From Prof. Edv^ard Dowden, LL.D., of the University of Dublin, 
Author of '■'■ Shakspere : His Mind atid Art.'^ 
I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make 
a book " pleasant to the eyes " (as well as " to be desired to make one 
wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 

From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of '' Shakespearian Grammar:' 
I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 

Fro7n Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. 
In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From Prof, F. J. Child, of Harvard University. 

I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every 
respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the 
opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be 
thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. 
You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 

Under date of July 25, 1879, Prof. Child adds : Mr. Rolfe's editions 
of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether 
for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They 
show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in 
scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
have expressed of the excellence of these books. 

From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. 

I regard your own work as of the highest merit, while you have turned 
the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- 
vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, 
or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
pily begun. 

From the Examiner and Chronicle, N. Y. 

We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens 
of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other 
merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in 
order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops 
there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
tionately grateful for it. 



Rolfe^s Shakespeare. 



From the N. Y. Times. 
This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
the poet's moods and purposes. 

From the Pacific School Journal, San Francisco. 
This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- 
poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained 
by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books. 
. . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love 
for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in 
cultivating a pure and refined taste. 

From the Christian Union, N. Y. 
Mr. W. J. Rolfe's capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the 
necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. 

From the Academy, London. 
Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones 
in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give 
the Student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . 
Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words 
and Phrases explained." 

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

[[1^^ Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the 
United States, on receipt of the Price. 



OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 

SELECT POEMS OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH. Edited, 
with Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
trated. i6mo, Paper, 50 cents ; Cloth, 70 cents. {^Uni- 
form with Rolfe' s Shakespeare.) 



The carefully arranged editions of " The Merchant of Venice " and 
other of Shakespeare's plays prepared by Mr. William J. Rolfe for the 
use of students will be remembered with pleasure by many readers, and 
they will welcome another volume of a similar character from the same 
source, in the form of the " Select Poems of Oliver Goldsmith," edited 
with notes fuller than those of any other known edition, many of them 
original with the editor. — Boston Transcript. 

Mr. Rolfe is doing very useful work in the preparation of compact 
hand-books for study in English literature. His own personal culture, 
and his long experience as a teacher, give him good knowledge of what 
is wanted in this way. — The Coiigregatiojialist, Boston. 

Mr. Rolfe has prefixed to the Poems selections illustrative of Gold- 
smith's character as a man and grade as a poet, from sketches by Ma- 
caulay, Thackeray, George Colman, Thomas Campbell, John Forster, 
and Washington Irving. He has also appended, at the end of the 
volume, a body of scholarly notes explaining and illustrating the poems, 
and dealing with the times in which they were written, as well as the 
incidents and circumstances attending their composition. — Ckristiaji 
Intelligencer^ N. Y. 

The notes are just and discriminating in tone, and supply all that is 
necessary either for understanding the thought of the several poems, or 
for a critical study of the language. The use of such books in the school- 
room cannot but contribute largely toward putting the study of English 
literature upon a sound basis ; and many an adult reader would find in 
the present volume an excellent opportunity for becoming critically ac- 
quainted with one of the greatest of last century's poets. — Appleton''s 
yoiirnal, N. Y. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, 07t receipt cf 
the price. 



THOMAS GRAY. 

SELECT POEMS OF THOMAS GRAY. Edited, with 
Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
trated. Square i6mo. Paper, 50 cents ; Cloth, 70 cents. 
{^Uniform with Rolfe' s Shakespeare.) 



Mr. Rolfe has done his work in a manner that comes as near to per- 
fection as man can approach. He knows his subject so well that he is 
competent to instruct all in it ; and readers will find an immense amount 
of knowledge in his elegant volume, all set forth in the most admirable 
order, and breathing the most liberal and enlightened spirit, he being a 
warm appreciator of the divinity of genius. — Boston Traveller. 

The great merit of these books lie in their carefully-edited text, and in 
the fulness of their explanatory notes. Mr. Rolfe is not satisfied with 
simply expounding, but he explores the entire field of English literature, 
and therefrom gathers a multitude of illustrations that are interesting in 
themselves and valuable as a commentary on the text. He not only in- 
structs, but stimulates his readers to fresh exertion ; and it is this stimu- 
lation that makes his labors so productive in the school-room. — Saturday 
Evening Gazette, Boston. 

Mr. William J. Rolfe, to whom English literature is largely indebted 
for annotated and richly-illustrated editions of several of Shakespeare's 
Plays, has treated the " Select Poems of Thomas Gray" in the same way 
— ^just as he had previously dealt with the best of Goldsmith's poems. — 
The Press, Phila. 

Mr. Rolfe's edition of Thomas Gray's select poems is marked by the 
same discriminating taste as his other classics. — Springfield Republican. 

Mr. Rolfe's rare abilities as a teacher and his fine scholarly tastes ena- 
ble him to prepare a classic like this in the best manner for school use. 
There could be no better exercise for the advanced classes in our schools 
than the critical study of our best authors, and the volumes that Mr. Rolfe 
has prepared will hasten the time when the study of mere form will give 
place to the study of the spirit of our literature. — Louisville Courier- 
yournal. 

An elegant and scholarly little volume. — Christian Intelligencer, N. Y. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, 071 receipt of tJu 
price and one-sixth additional for postage. 



